Beautiful Nightmare
by brittanafor3ver
Summary: "She's eleven, eleven and too smart for her age. She doesn't play dumb, she knows what goes on at home, and I wish she didn't. It broke my heart the first time she had asked me about it, she was six and James had thought she was asleep."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I already have two stories going I know, but I really wanted to go ahead and start this one. I've almost completely finished writing _Broken_, so that leaves me enough time for this one. **

**This story is something I've been thinking about doing for awhile now, knowing it's a real-life problem that happens everyday. **

****After hearing about one of my family members being in an abusive relationship in the past, it pushed me to go ahead and write this idea out, because why not?****

**So fair warning, this is very angsty and won't have much fluff in it. It will contain references to domestic violence, which is basically the main focus of the story.**

**Other than that, I hope you enjoy. **

_..._

_"And every time I feel afraid I hold tighter to my faith. And I live one more day and I make it through the rain." Mariah Carey, Through The Rain_

_..._

_**Brittany's POV**_

It's a Saturday. Saturday's are the worst.

Saturday's are when he goes out for a drink with his colleagues after getting off of work, but I don't mind him going out. He works hard, and he deserves some time for himself. I usually just stay at home with our daughter, Emma.

She's eleven, eleven and too smart for her age. She doesn't play dumb, she knows what goes on at home, and I wish she didn't.

It broke my heart the first time she had asked me about it, she was six and James had thought she was asleep.

_"Mommy, why did daddy hit you?" She had asked, her big blue eyes curious and sad._

_"He didn't, baby. I fell." I lied and gave her the best smile I could form at the moment. "Mommy's clumsy sometimes."_

_She gave me a pointed look as her small fingers grazed the bruised spot on my left cheek. I flinched. "I saw him hit you, mommy," She said quietly. "He's not supposed to do that. My teacher says it's wrong."_

_"Sweetheart, you didn't tell your teacher about this, did you?" I asked, more alarmed than anything._

_Emma must've noticed the look of panic in my eyes and quickly shook her head. "No, one boy asked her about it."_

_"Baby girl, promise me that you won't tell anyone about this ok? This stays between you and me." I said softly, cupping her tan face in my hands. I rested my forehead against hers, something we did often, it's a connection we had._

_"I promise, mommy." She told me, and I let out a sigh of relief._

"Mom?" Emma's voice brought me out of my thoughts. I seem to get lost in them a lot.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I smile and smooth out some of the long blonde hairs sticking out of her nearly perfect French braid. It still amazes how much we look alike, and I can't help but feel a swell of pride for her. She's amazing.

Emma cocks her head to the side and furrows her brows, something she usually does when she's thinking hard. "I have a project due." She states.

I nod, urging for her to continue.

"It's, um." She pauses and scratches the tip of her nose. She's uncomfortable. "A family project." She finishes and gives me a weary look.

"That sounds fun." I smile again, even though she looks doubtful. "What do you have to do?"

"List the physical and personality traits I get from both of my parents." She emphasizes _both_. "I have to take pictures of the physical and put them on a poster board, then write down the personality somewhere around it."

"Alright, we can go to the store and buy the supplies you need tomorrow. I'll just have to talk to your father about it and we should be good to go." I say calmly, noticing how her face tenses at the mention of James. She's been doing that for a few years now, and I can't help but feel like I'm the one to blame.

"Do we... have to tell him?" Emma asks hesitantly with a small frown.

"Well, you said it was a family project right?" I pull her closer to me so that she's now sitting on my lap. I nuzzle my nose in her golden blonde hair, the smell of Vanilla and a soft mint invading my senses. It's her favorite type of shampoo, she says it reminds her of ice cream.

Emma leans back into my chest and nods, while taking one of my hands and resting it on her stomach. She toys with my fingers, purposefully skipping over my wedding ring. Once again, my heart breaks.

I sigh and think carefully about what I'm going to say next. "He is your father, baby." I decide on, mentally hitting myself for choosing that as a valid reason. _Stupid_.

"I wish he wasn't." She snaps angrily, and I can hear the venom in her voice. "I hate him."

"Don't say that." I say sternly, shaking my head disapprovingly. "We don't say _hate_, you know that. I never want to hear that come out of your mouth again."

Emma ducks her head down and stares at the floor guiltily. "I'm sorry mom." She says quietly. "It won't happen again." She assures me.

"You know I love you, right?" I ask softly while resting my chin on her left shoulder.

"More than anything." She says knowingly and kisses the faded scar on my cheek. "I love you more than anything too." Her eyes are so clear and honest, it tugs my heart strings in a painfully good way.

It makes me think that maybe I'm not completely failing her.

...

"Brittany!" A deep voice booms through our large condo, startling me awake. I hadn't even realized I fell asleep, which has been happening a lot recently.

I tighten my hold Emma, who had fallen asleep in my arms, and gently kiss her forehead when she began to stir.

"Did you make dinner? I don't smell anything cooking." James states as he walks into the room and sets his brief case down on the floor. I've always thought James was handsome, a tall muscular man with dark hair and green eyes, it would be easy for anyone to be attracted to him.

_Looks can be deceiving._

I clear my throat and smooth out Emma's hair, which is now draping over my thighs. "We don't have anything to make dinner with, James. You said you would have someone stop at the store today and bring groceries, but no one came by." I try to reason, knowing how bad his temper can get.

James abruptly stops his movements, and cocks his head to the side. "Excuse me?"

I sigh and pat Emma's thigh to wake her up. James being slightly intoxicated and now in a bad mood is never a good mix, and it's important to me to keep my daughter away from him when he's angry.

"What?" Emma mumbles groggily, while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Go to your room." I say calmly, causing her ocean blue eyes to widen.

Knowing what might happen if she didn't, Emma quickly hops off of my lap and leaves the living room. I let out a sigh of relief when I hear her door close and a quiet _click_ a few seconds later, confirming that her door is locked.

It puts my stomach a little more at ease knowing that she's safe.

Slowly, I slide off of the couch and stand up straight, smoothing out my sheer purple top in the process. James always says it's important for us to look our best, which is why anyone looking in on our lives would perceive us as the perfect family. They would be wrong.

"If you would like, I can run to the store and-"

"Why are you so _stupid_, Brittany?" James asks lowly, towering over me by a good four inches. Intimidating would be an understatement.

I flinch slightly at the word and bite my lip. "I just thought-"

"Just thought what? That I'd come home after a long day of work and not be hungry?" He laughs angrily. "I spend all fuckin day at work, bringing home money for you and our daughter, and this is how you repay me? Sitting on your ass like there's nothing better to do?"

Crying never helps, so I chew harder on my bottom lip to distract myself.

"I'm sorry. I'll go to the store and buy groceries right now." I say softly, attempting to step past James, but he stops me.

"Oh no. It's too late for that." He chuckles dryly and roughly grabs my arm, pulling me closer. I'm surprised by the way his nails are digging into my skin that he didn't draw blood. "We haven't had sex in almost a week." He whispers harshly into my ear.

I grimace at the feeling of his breath against my skin and shudder at the thought. "Please, not right now." I say quietly, glancing in the direction of Emma's room. Arguing is never a good idea on my part, but I refuse to put myself in that kind of position with my eleven year old daughter down the hall. I could never forgive myself if she heard.

"What?" His face darkens and his grip on my arm tightens.

I whimper at the feeling and push him away without a second thought, before looking down at the spot on my arm which is starting to bruise. I can still feel his nails in my skin, the deep claw marks are the proof that they were there.

James shakes his head and chuckles. "Who do you think you are?"

I quickly open my mouth to apologize, but before I could say anything I get an up-close view of my husband's wedding ring, and my body hits the wall behind me forcefully. I clutch the right side of my face in pain and clench my jaw to keep from making any noise.

James sighs and squats down so we're at eye level. "I want a 9 oz. steak and hand-mashed potatoes from that new restaurant across town. Make sure they take the peelings out." He leans down to kiss my forehead, before standing up and tossing his car keys to the Audi at the my feet. "Drive safely, Britt."

...

_**Santana's POV**_

"Q, are those my black Louboutin's I let you borrow last week?" I snap and narrow my eyes at my best friend, who is leaning against the island in my kitchen.

Quinn bites her lip and takes a step back, moving further away from me. Smart idea. "Umm... maybe?"

I roll my eyes and hand Kurt, who is sitting on my white leather couch, a glass of wine. "You can afford your own fuckin shoes, give mine back. Those were three hundred dollars, Fabray."

"Come on, San." Quinn whines. "They look amazing with my outfit, if I change the shoes I have to change clothes."

"That's a logical excuse." Kurt nods, before taking a sip of his wine.

"Logical my ass." I huff. "You can wear them tonight, but I want them back in my closet by tomorrow morning."

"Deal." Quinn shrugs. "So, we're still going to that new club in downtown Miami right?"

"Yep." I nod and run my fingers through my dark locks, "I already told everyone to meet us there around 11:30."

"Sebastian and I will be there, we could use a drink. Or seven." Kurt jokes, glancing at his almost-empty glass sitting on the table.

I laugh at that. "Little Kurtbastian running you down old man?" I tease.

"Oh, you have no idea." Kurt shakes his head, and adjusts the navy scarf that is tied around his neck. "Who knew four year olds could have so much energy?"

"Oh please. You should know that from babysitting Callie." Quinn points out, acknowledging her and Sam's 6 year old daughter.

"She's such a feisty little girl. But her interest in fashion makes my heart swell, I was sure to let her know that Uncle Kurt will be happy to help if she ever needs assistance." Kurt smiles proudly, ignoring the unison eye roll from both Quinn and I.

"What about you, San?" Quinn asks, looking directly at me.

I raise a brow and frown at the question. I'm pretty sure we go over this at least once every two weeks. "What about me?"

"Are you ever gonna settle down and have kids?" Kurt joins in and props his head up with his hand, waiting for my response.

I sigh and avert my eyes to the floor. "Probably not." I answer honestly, avoiding eye contact with both of my friends.

"Come on, San. You need someone to share this big ol' classic Miami mansion with," Quinn smiles and nudges me playfully with her elbow.

"I don't know." I say wearily, biting my lip as I get lost in her thoughts. Even after all these years, my mind still wanders to a certain blonde with piercing blue eyes.

Kurt and Quinn exchange a knowing glance, then look back to me. "San," Kurt starts gently. "We know you wanted all of those things with Brittany, but-"

"No." I snap, quickly cutting him off. "You don't know anything. Just shut the hell up, Kurt."

"Santana, you need to get over that." Quinn bites back just as harshly, "We haven't heard from Brittany in over 10 years, and we probably never will again. It's time to let go."

"I have let go, Q." I hiss out angrily and cross my arms over my chest. "I don't expect her to randomly show up at my door with a wedding ring."

"I know you don't." Quinn says in a softer tone. "But I do know that you're hoping to see her again, and I don't want that holding you back from making any big decisions in your life."

"If Brittany came back, all I'd want from her is to be my best friend again," I state quietly. "I never said I wanted to get back together with her." I add.

Kurt nods in understanding. "But do you think you could resist it getting to that point?" He asks curiously, tilting his head to the side.

I lick my lips and shrug. "Enough about Brittany. Let's talk about how I expect to be Q's maid of honor at her and Trouty's vow renewal ceremony." I give the green-eyed blonde a pointed look.

"Um, I beg to differ. That's my spot." Kurt says quickly. "I already have an outfit planned out and everything."

I snap my head in Kurt's direction and narrow my eyes. "What the hell? You can't be maid of honor Porcelain."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I know, I planned on being man of honor, Santana."

"That makes no sense." I scrunch up my nose and shake my head.

Quinn rolls her eyes."If you two keep arguing, I'll just have Rachel or Mercedes be my maid of honor."

"Bitch." I grumble while leaning back against the couch. Kurt huffs a '_fine_,' before mimicking my actions.

"Is Taylor coming tonight?" Quinn asks me, deciding to completely change the subject.

"She is." I confirm with a nod. Taylor's my most recent recurring booty call. No relationship involved, just sex. I don't think I've had a real relationship since I was with Brittany, to be honest.

"I'm so confused with you and Taylor. Like what is your relationship status?" Kurt sits up and looks at me intently. I feel uncomfortable under his stare, and knowing Quinn's eyes are on me just makes me feel worse.

So I just shrug. "There is no relationship."

"Do you want one with her?" Quinn raises a brow and glances at Kurt, then back to me.

"What is it with you two giving me relationship advice?" I laugh. "I think I can handle myself."

"It's a valid question," Kurt stands up and makes his way to the kitchen to pour himself another glass of wine. "We have the right to know."

"I don't know what I want right now." I sigh, and it couldn't be more true. "We'll just have to see what happens. She may not even want a relationship."

Quinn tears her gaze away from the tv and back to me. "But you don't know that. Maybe she does, you'll never know if you don't ask." She shrugs, smoothing out the bun her hair is pulled up in.

"Maybe." I decide on, not wanting to press the matter further. Sure it kind of sucks that most of my friends have settled down and gotten married and had kids, and I'm still sleeping around like I'm 19. It's not the ideal way I pictured my life at twenty-nine, but I can deal with it. I have a great career, I graduated from Colombia and became a lawyer, which was more realistic to me than becoming a famous singer like I had originally planned in my glee club days. It pays well and I'm currently one of the top lawyers on the East coast, which is a big achievement on my part.

"Since it's almost ten, I'm gonna head out ladies. I'll meet you back here in an hour with Sebastian." Kurt informs us while smoothing out his slacks.

"I brought my dress, so I'll just get ready here." Quinn states with a shrug.

"Ok." I nod and walk Kurt through the foyer, to my front door. "Do _not_ be fashionably late either Lady Hummel, I have a VIP booth reserved so I would like to get there on time."

"Oh Santana, you can't rush fashion." Kurt states casually before walking out my front door with a smirk on his face. "I'll see you in an hour." He calls over his shoulder.

"Your ass better be here in exactly an hour, too!" I yell after him.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I'm shuffling around my bedroom in search for my red Jimmy Choo pumps that I bought last week. Once I found them laying under my bed, shocker, I slip them on and check myself out in the full length mirror hanging on my wall.

I'm wearing a tight, strapless back dress that came right above mid-thigh, smoky makeup, and my dark hair cascaded down my back in loose waves.

"Whoa, I think I just felt a little tingle in my man-loving parts for you." Kurt says with wide eyes, as he scans over my body.

I smirk and adjust my dress, before turning to face him. "Well Kurt, knowing you're as gay as they come, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good, because it was a compliment." Kurt shrugs, before bringing a glass of champagne up to his lips.

"You've been drinking my alcohol all damn day. That shit is expensive, what are you, an alcoholic now?" I scowl, and narrow my eyes at the glass in Kurt's hand. You would think he got enough earlier, but nope.

"Oh calm down, Satan. I'll buy you more."

"Damn right you will."

"Can we go?" Quinn appears in the doorway with Sebastian beside her. "I called a town car since we won't be driving anywhere after we leave. Oh, and Taylor should be here in a few minutes." She informs me, before walking back downstairs.

"I guess we're leaving." I shrug and leave the room, followed by Kurtbastian. We decide to wait for Taylor outside, that way we can just go ahead and leave as soon as she pulls up.

She must've been reading my thoughts, because not even a second later Taylor's white Bentley is pulling into my driveway.

"Hey guys." Taylor waves with a sly grin on her face.

Taylor's hot, that's obvious, but right now hot is an understatement. She could make the sun say _damn_ in that tight red dress and her dirty blonde hair draping over her shoulders in loose curls.

"Hey babe." She smiles and kisses me chastely, before pulling away and carefully wiping away some of the red lipstick she messed up.

"You look great." I tell her, my eyes resting on her chest.

She smirks at me and nods. "I know, and so do you." She winks and loops her arm through mine. "You guys ready to go?"

Kurt nods and glances between Sebastian and Quinn, who are also nodding.

"There's our ride." Quinn states, nodding her head towards the stretch limousine that pulled up against the curb.

"I thought you said town car?" I chuckle while leading Taylor over to the limo and opening the door for her.

"Same thing." Quinn shrugs and climbs in after me, leaving Kurt and Sebastian to close the door behind them.

Fifteen minutes later, we pull up outside the extremely busy night club and Kurt's the first one out. We climb out of the limo one by one, before heading to the door where the bouncer asks for our ID's. I go to reach my wallet from my left hand when I realize it isn't there.

_Shit._

"Quinn, I left my wallet in the limo." I whisper while glancing at our friends who had already entered the club.

Quinn groans and gives me that look, which means she's either about to scold me or yell at me. "Here." She hands me her phone. "Go to my recent calls and hit the first number, it's the driver's. He can't be that far away."

"Thanks Q." I sigh with relief while dialing the number.

"Do you want me to wait with you?" She asks, but I just shake my head.

"Go ahead and order me a glass of champagne, I'll be there in a few minutes." I tell her. When she looks at me skeptically I give her a reassuring smile and wave my hand for her to go.

"Don't take too long." She looks at me pointedly, before heading inside. I decide to walk up the street to get away from all the chaos coming from outside the club, when someone runs directly into me.

"Watch where the fuck you're going." I growl while bending down to grab Quinn's iPhone off of the concrete, praying to God that it isn't shattered.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," They reply and quickly scramble a few feet away. I don't blame them though, I'd be scared of me too. "Is it ok? I can buy you a new one."

I furrow my brows, because I know that voice.

In fact, I could recognize that voice anywhere.

I trail my eyes up the stranger's long legs until I reach their face. I look past the light purple bruise that was starting to form around the blonde's right eye, and I'm immediately met with clear blue.

My breath catches in my throat when I realize who it is.

"Brittany."

**...**

**Each chapter in the story will most likely switch back & forth between Santana and Brittany's point of view, because I wanted to write from both of their perspectives so you can see what they're thinking about and what their takes are on the situation. Even though I'm using Santana's POV, the story still focuses mainly on Brittany. It might get annoying, and i'm sorry for that, but that's what I plan on doing. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews, I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story so far. **

**I plan on working really hard on this fic, and will make it as realistic as I possibly can. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me about them or leave them in the reviews. **

**Not much Santana in this chapter...sorry :P**

**But anyways, here's the 2nd chapter so enjoy :)**

**...**

_"Regrets collect like old friends, here to relive your darkest moments. I can see no way, I can see no way, and all of the ghouls come out to play." -Florence and the machine, Shake it off_

_..._

Shock. It's the only thing I'm able to feel when I see a flash of emotions cross Santana's face. She's staring at me with her dark eyes widened, and I know she's feeling the exact same way.

10 years can be a long time, and I guess I'm to blame for that.

Santana opens her mouth to speak again, but I don't stay long enough to hear what she says. Running was the only thing I could think of doing.

It was one of those decisions you make on the spot, so I didn't really have a chance to think about it. It was just the first thing that came to mind.

_I can't let her see me like this._

"Brittany, wait!" Santana yells after me, and I can hear the sound of her heels against the concrete so I know she's close. It only makes me run faster.

I'm not stupid, I've known that Santana lives in Miami ever since she won that big case a few years ago. I heard James talking about it with a few of his colleagues, and then I read it in the paper later on that day. She's become so successful, and I couldn't be more proud of her.

I, on the other hand, haven't accomplished much. Emma is really the only thing I have to be proud of.

I had always dreamt of opening my own dance studio, Mike and I would always talk about it during glee club. We had always planned on moving to New York or California, some big city like that, then work together to become one of the most popular studios in the city.

The difference between Mike and I is that he's been on world tours with Beyoncé and Rihanna while I haven't danced in years.

I'm not sure I ever will again. It's not something that's important in my life anymore.

It's hard not to be somewhat embarrassed about my lifestyle, mainly because I know it's something not everyone agrees with. I'm a stay at home wife and mother, which I don't have a problem with, but it's difficult not to think about the other possibilities when you see all of your friends succeeding in what they do.

Sometimes I can't help but think, _what if_?

What if Santana and I hadn't of broken up when she got accepted into Colombia and I had early admission to MIT? What if I decided to leave MIT and go to my dream school, Juilliard, like I had planned? Then I never would have met James, and Emma wouldn't be here.

My daughter is the biggest blessing in my life. She's what gets me through the day, and I don't think I could ever be without her.

_Everything happens for a reason._

I stop running once I reach a small store at the end of the block. I glance over my shoulder and let out a relieved sigh when Santana's nowhere in sight. I must've lost her a few blocks back, I have no idea how far I ran.

So, I head back in the direction where I parked James's car and focus on getting my husband his dinner.

He's had a long day and deserves a nice meal.

...

Brittany ran. I have no idea why, or how the hell she ran that fast, but she was gone before I could even blink. It might've helped if I didn't just stand there with my mouth hanging open like a damn fish.

It's moments like these when I wish I was wearing a pair of Nike free runs instead of stilettos. Brittany had that advantage over me.

What got me the most was the look in her eyes. Brittany and I, we were always able to read each other clearly. She always broke down my walls, and I always understood her when no one else could. It was our thing.

But that look was completely unreadable. It was something I've never seen before, and I don't like the look of it on Brittany. She's too sweet to have an expression like that.

_Fear? Shock? Confusion? Relief?_ Possibly all four? I have no idea, and I wish I did. Have we really disconnected from each other this much? Losing touch with Brittany has affected me more than I thought.

The club is the last thing on my mind right now, and I know Quinn's probably wondering where the hell I am. But I haven't seen Brittany in so long, who knew we lived in the same city? There's a million questions racing through my mind right now that I wish wouldn't be left unanswered.

And that bruise around her eye, I want to know where that came from. I've have my fair share of black eyes in my life, so I could tell that she had gotten it recently. Brittany's never been in a fight in her life, and I could never imagine her in a fight, so I automatically cross that possibility off the list.

Besides that, she looks exactly the same. She's gotten older, obviously, we all have, but she's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. Although her eyes weren't as bright as usual, they were still that ocean blue color I could stare into for hours and hours at a time.

I'm still in my thoughts when another blonde taps my shoulder and looks at me curiously with her head tilted to the side. "Babe, are you ok?"

_Right, Taylor_.

"I'm fine." I nod and glance in the direction Brittany ran one last time, before taking Taylor's hand in my own. "Let's get back to the club."

"Did you get your wallet back?" She asks me, and wow, am I that out of it?

"Shit, I completely forgot." I sigh and look down at Quinn's phone, which has a huge ass crack down the screen.

Just great.

"No worries." She smiles. "I figured you might've been doing something out here since you took so long, so I called the driver for you. He should be here any minute."

"What would I do without you?" I chuckle, before leaning up to kiss her softly.

Taylor shrugs and smiles. "You wouldn't have a wallet?" She says and I nod in agreement.

"Very true."

About five minutes later, the limo pulls up against the curb and the driver gladly hands me my wallet. I toss him a fifty dollar bill as a thank you, before heading back to the club up the street with Taylor. We show the bouncer our ID's and head towards our VIP booth once he lets us in.

"What took you so long?" Quinn yells over the music while handing me my glass of champagne.

"The driver took longer than we thought." Taylor answers for me, since I'm in the middle of downing my drink.

"Well Sam bought us a round of shots, we were waiting on you guys to drink them." Sebastian informs us while passing Taylor and I a shot glass. We quickly knock back our shots and I immediately scrunch my face up because damn, that's strong.

"Let's dance!" Kurt yells with his hands raised in the air, and I can tell he's already a little drunk. I'm not surprised with the amount of wine he drank earlier.

Kurt drags Sebastian out to the dance floor and Sam goes to take Quinn, but I quickly stop him. "Bathroom." I yell into Quinn's ear, hoping she can understand what I'm saying.

I'm assuming she does when she nods and releases Sam's arm, before grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the back of the club where the restrooms are located. She cracks open the door and looks inside, then drags me in with her.

I'm pleased to see it's completely empty, which is pretty unusual around this time.

"Q." I sigh as I run my fingers through my hair. "I saw Brittany."

"What?" Quinn's eyes widen. "When? Just now?"

I slowly nod while balancing myself against the marble countertop by the sinks. "I ran into her on the sidewalk when I was calling the driver."

"Are you sure it was Brittany?" Quinn asks with a frown, and I can tell by the way her eyes are slightly dilated that she's had a few drinks. "It could've easily been someone else."

"Of course I'm sure. I could recognize Brittany anywhere." I scoff. "She wouldn't have looked at me that way if I was just some random stranger she bumped into."

"You can't stress yourself out over this." Quinn gives me a stern look. "I refuse to let you backtrack just because you saw Brittany for a few seconds outside. If you run into her again that's great, but don't obsess over it and try to find her or something. Miami's a big place with a lot of people." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I miss Brittany too, but we can't force her to be friends with us again. She obviously has her own life now."

I know everything Quinn's saying is true, like always, but it still doesn't make it easier to accept the fact that Brittany's life is something I'm not apart of anymore.

"Come on babe, don't let this mess with your head tonight. Let's go back out there and have a good time with our friends, ok?" Quinn loops her arm through mine and waits for my answer.

"Ok." I nod and allow her to pull us out of the restroom.

A few drinks definitely wouldn't hurt right now.

...

Once I get back home, I walk through the front door as quietly as possible in case Emma's asleep. Most of the lights are off in the condo, except for the kitchen light, so I'm assuming James is waiting for me. I know I took longer than I should've, and I'm hoping he's not too upset with me.

I balance the large paper bag in one hand while closing the door with the other, before setting my purse of the small table in the foyer and making my way towards the kitchen.

When I walk in, I'm surprised to see Emma sitting on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. I clear my throat which causes her to jump slightly, before looking up from her phone and giving me a small smile, which quickly disappears. Her eyebrows furrow and I open my mouth to ask what's wrong, just as she says "What happened to your eye?"

It completely slipped my mind.

"Why are you still awake baby?" I decide on responding with as I set the bag on the opposite end of the table. "And where's your father?" I add, while taking out the containers holding the steak and mashed potatoes and setting them in front of James's usual spot.

"Asleep." She states while watching me carefully with a frown. "He said you were taking too long. I told him you probably got stuck in traffic so it's technically not your fault." She adds while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You didn't have to do that." I sigh and crouch down so we're at eye level. "It was my fault, I got too caught up with myself to focus on bringing home dinner."

"If he wanted it badly enough, he could've went out and gotten it himself." Emma's expression turns hard. "You're not his servant, so he shouldn't be treating you like one."

"Honey," I began gently. "Marriage is about splitting the responsibilities between yourself and your spouse equally. He works hard to make money so that we can have a nice house and send you to a nice school."

"Money isn't everything." She retorts with a raised brow.

"No, it isn't." I agree. "But we need money to pay for things. Without your father, I wouldn't be able to send you to dance classes three times a week or pay for your cheer funding. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The look on her face tells me that she does, but she's still not satisfied with that answer.

"I wouldn't be able to take care of you without your father. He's been a huge help in raising you, there's no way I could've done it by myself." I pause and look into her identical blue eyes that are watching me intently, before dropping my gaze to the floor. "I'm not that good of a mother." I add softly.

Emma lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes her head. "Stop talking about yourself like that. Not everything is your fault, why can't you see that?" She slams her phone against the table and opens her mouth to say something else, but quickly shuts it.

"What-" I begin to say, just as she gently takes my arm in her hands and looks over it with sad eyes. It isn't until I remember what had happened earlier that I realize what she's looking at.

_The bruises_.

I quickly draw my arm away and place it behind my back, where it's out of sight. It's too late though, she's already seen.

She may have let the black eye go, but this was something she wouldn't.

"Mom..." Her voice is quiet, as if she's afraid to speak. "He hurt you again."

"I'm ok." I say quickly when I see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm ok baby, don't cry." I reach up to wipe her tears away, but she yanks her head back before I'm able to reach.

"You're not ok." Emma sighs shakily and roughly wipes her eyes. "You're not. Why do you keep lying to me? You always tell me not to lie, and that's exactly what you're doing right now." She snaps.

"Emma." I use to softest tone I'm able to speak in and cup her face in my hands. "Emma, I need you to listen to me for a minute ok?" She sniffles a few times before nodding. "I love your father, so so much. Sometimes when you love someone, you make sacrifices for them." I pause and shake my head. What kind of lesson would I be teaching my child if I told her this was ok?

"Come here baby." I sigh and open my arms, which she gladly falls into.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?" She asks quietly, keeping her face hidden in my neck.

"Of course." I nod and kiss the top of her head, before gripping the bottom of her thighs and pulling her up with me. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder as I carry her towards her bedroom upstairs.

I gently lay her down on her pink and gold bed spread, before heading into her bathroom to wash away my make up and get a little more comfortable before going to bed. I decide to keep on the clothes I'm wearing now instead of changing, since James is asleep and I don't want to risk waking him up by shuffling through our bedroom to find pajamas.

I slip out of my skinny jeans, because if they're uncomfortable now I can't imagine how awful they would be to sleep in, and toss them to the side, leaving me in my top and underwear. I take a light pink wash cloth out of Emma's cabinet and lightly wet it with warm water, before bringing it up tony face.

I'm in the middle of removing my makeup when I hear a faint tap on the door, before Emma pokes her head in. "Here." She hands me one of her oversized sweatshirts and gives me a small smile before slipping back into her room.

Once I finish up in the bathroom and flip the light switch off, I quietly walk back into the room and climb onto the large bed placed in the middle. Emma immediatley cuddles into into my chest once my back hits her satin sheets, and I sigh in content at the feeling of her against me.

"Goodnight mom, I love you." She mumbles tiredly before her eyes flutter shut.

"I love you too baby girl. Sweet dreams."

...

The next morning, I wake up around 8 from the bright rays of sunshine peering through Emma's light pink curtains. I look down and smile at the sight of my daughter curled into me, her head tucked securely under my chin.

I hum softly and rub her back to wake her up, something I did often.

"Mom, it's too early." Emma whines sleepily and buries her face further into the material of my shirt. "Can't I sleep for like, three more hours?"

"Sure you can." I grin at her hum of approval. "But you'll miss out on making some awesome pancakes for breakfast."

She slowly lifts her head from my chest and looks down at me with curious eyes. "What kind of pancakes?"

I tap my chin thoughtfully just to amuse her. "I was thinking a mix between milk chocolate and white chocolate?"

I've never seen someone hop out of bed that fast.

"I'll race ya to the kitchen!" Emma yells and disappears down the hall, before I have a chance to scold her for running in the house.

So instead, I chuckle and pull myself out of Emma's bed, grab the pair of oversized shorts that are laying out on her ottoman and slip them on, then make my way out of the room and towards the kitchen.

I laugh when I walk in and see that Emma already has everything set out and the stove turned on.

"Is it supposed to be on high, mom?" She asks over her shoulder, before focusing on separating the chocolate chips out.

"Put in on medium, honey. Just to be safe." I tell her while grabbing a skillet out of the bottom cabinet. Emma nods and moves the dial, before pouring the ingredients in a large plastic bowl and begins to mix the ingredients together.

"Do you need any help?" I ask with a smile, knowing how independent she likes to be.

Emma shakes her head while sprinkling the white chocolate chips in. "I got it mom." She assures me while whipping up the batter.

Twenty minutes, a large mess, and ten pancakes later, Emma's finishing up her fourth pancake when James walks in.

"Breakfast smells good." He smiles while kissing my cheek, before grabbing his cup of coffee from the counter and looking to Emma. "You want to go shopping with your old man today Em?"

"No." She states, but I quickly shoot her a look and she sighs before answering again. "Sure daddy."

James nods and tucks today's paper under his arm. "I'll be in my study. We're leaving around eleven, so try to be ready by then."

"Ok." Emma nods and watches him leave the room, before turning to me with a frown. "Do I have to go?" She asks me hopefully and brings out the pout, which makes me realize just how well that worked for me in the past.

"Yes." I nod. "You need to spend some time with him."

"But-"

"No buts." I shake my head and give her a stern look. "Don't even try getting yourself out of this, Emma Marie. You're going, and that's the end of it."

"Can't you come too?" She decides on and hops down from her seat. "If we're spending so much family time together, shouldn't you be coming too?"

I shake my head and begin to clean up the kitchen, wrapping up the leftover food and setting it in the fridge for later. "I think your father wants the two of you to spend some time together." I tell her. "Besides, I could use some time to myself. You're not the easiest to deal with." I tease, then laugh at Emma's facial expression.

"You know you love me." She grins and pokes me in the ribs, a little harder than I think she meant to, which causes me to grunt in pain and push her away without thinking about it.

My ribs are still bruised and not completely healed from a small accident that happened a few weeks ago.

It was mostly my fault, I had arrived late for a dinner party at a colleague of James's house because I overslept. I had stayed up the previous night and all afternoon to take care of Emma, she had gotten food poising from something she had eaten at a friend's house the night before, and was throwing _everything_ back up. Later that night, James had already had a few glasses of champagne to drink and was still upset with me about not being on time, because he classifies it as unprofessional. He had thrown me against the wall and kicked me twice in my stomach, which wasn't as painful as it seems. I've dealt with much worse.

He had immediately apologized afterwards and I immediately forgave him as usual, because I've learned that staying angry at someone and holding grudges will get you nowhere. It's easier to just forgive and forget.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear a small thud, and look down to see Emma gently rubbing the back of her head. My eyes widen as realization washes over me.

"I'm so sorry." I gasp and take a step back, completely horrified with myself. I always said I would never intentionally hurt my daughter, and what did I just do?

"Oh god, I'm so sorry Emma." I know I'm crying now, I can feel the wetness sliding down my cheeks.

I've never felt more disgusted with myself in my life.

"Mom, no, don't cry. I'm ok really, I swear I'm fine." Emma stands up and takes a step closer towards me, but I can't handle being near her right now, so I take another step back.

Because I hurt her.

Emma frowns at my actions and sighs. "Mom, you didn't mean to. I know you didn't, and I promise I'm ok. You know I wouldn't lie to you." She hesitantly walks towards me and closes the remaining space between us, snaking her arms around my waist to pull me in for a hug.

Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky with her.

I move to return the hug, wrapping my arms around her small frame. It catches me off guard when she hisses in pain as my palm brushes against her arm, which makes me yank my hand away before she could say anything.

I look down at my palm and at the red substance lightly smeared across it. I then look to Emma, who's staring down at the small gash right under her elbow, which she must've gotten from falling against the edge of the island when I pushed her.

I didn't think I could feel worse until now.

Emma meets my eyes and my heart clenches at the strained smile she gives me.

"It doesn't hurt that bad. I just need a band aid and I'll be ok." She reassures me, but it doesn't help.

I physically feel sick, knowing I'm the cause of her pain.

"Mom-" She tries again, but I just shake by head and back away, which is somewhat difficult since my vision is completely blurry.

I know my heart rate is faster than it should be because I'm struggling to breathe properly. I move back a few steps and lean against the wall while closing my eyes, because the dizziness is getting too much.

I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack.

"Mom." Emma says more desperately this time, and manages to get ahold of me. She places her hands on both of my cheeks and gently pulls me down, so she can look into my eyes. "Mommy, you're scaring me." She adds quietly and chews on her bottom lip, a habit she got from me.

I relax slightly at her calling me _mommy, _since she rarely does it anymore, and take deep breaths in attempt to calm myself. _  
><em>

"I'm ok." I choke out while placing my hands on top of hers and giving a light squeeze. "I'm ok." I repeat, more clearly this time.

"Are you sure?" Her face relaxes slightly but she still looks worried. "Do you want me to get dad?"

I shake my head and rest my head against the wall as I take a deep breath. "Go get ready baby. It's almost eleven." I tell her with a weak smile.

"What? I'm not leaving you like this." She says quickly with a frown.

"Please don't argue with me right now." I sigh and give her a pointed look.

Emma's shoulders slump and she reluctantly nods. "Ok." She mumbles.

"I love you, ok? Please remember that." I shakily walk over to her and lean down to kiss her forehead softly. "Be good for your father."

"I will, I promise." She gives me a small smile. "And I love you too." She adds, before leaving the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Guest- Emma's smart enough to know the difference between what's right and what isn't. Brittany's been stuck in the situation for so long that she's come to terms with it and continues to tell herself that it's ok. Being in an environment where domestic violence happens constantly can affect the victim both physically and emotionally, in this case Brittany's mental state has been clearly affected where she has to accept that her husband abusing her is ok.**

**Also, Brittany isn't saying that it's acceptable to be with someone abusive if they have money, she's trying make sure Emma isn't resenting James for what he's done to her, because even though he's violent he's still somewhat of a good father, and she doesn't want the blame to be put on him, because that's just how Brittany is.**

**So sorry if you don't see it that way, but it's reality.**

**...**

_"Love yourself, girl, or nobody will. Oh, you a woman? I don't know how you deal, with all the pressure to look impressive and go out in heels. I feel for you, killing yourself to find a man that'll kill for you." -J. Cole, Crooked Smile_

**...**

After James and Emma left, I decided to clean up a bit around the condo. It wasn't messy, there were only a few things out of place like a discarded book or jacket, but I made sure to take care of it.

We rarely have house guests, but James prefers our home to be spotless most of the time. I don't mind, I understand why he would rather have everything neat and put together instead of an unorganized mess.

Santana's room was always a mess when we were teenagers. She hated cleaning.

_Santana._

Santana's still at the back of my mind, which she hasn't left since I saw her on the street, and it sucks that I can't stop thinking about her.

She was my first _real_ love, the one person I could honestly admit that I was crazy in love with, and it seemed like we had everything concerning our futures planned out before those college letters came.

_"Britt!" Santana exclaimed as she ran into the blonde's bedroom. "Britt, it came!"_

_A slightly confused Brittany glanced up from the multiple papers scattered across her bed and frowned. "What came?"_

_Santana quickly shook off her sneakers and hopped onto the bed, tossing the large white envelop into her girlfriend's lap. _

_"Columbia University?" Brittany read aloud as her fingers ghosted over the words. "This is the college you've been wanting to get into." She added with realization._

_"I know." Santana chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm scared to open it."_

_"You shouldn't be. They'd be dumb not to accept you, you're awesome." Brittany gave her a reassuring peck on the lips. "Do you want me to open it with you?"_

_"Would you?" Santana asked with a small glint in her dark eyes._

_Brittany smiled. "Of course, honey." She slid her index finger through the seal, then opened her arms for Santana to cuddle into while she read the letter aloud._

_"Dear Miss Lopez,_

_On behalf of Columbia University I am pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance into our program for the fall 2011 semester. We were very impressed by your academic history and believe that you will prove that our confidence in you is not unfounded._

_Enclosed with this letter, please find the necessary enrollment form for you to fill out and return by August 15, 2011. A timely response can increase your chances of finding accommodations on campus. You will be contacted upon receipt of the form by our student advisor, who will give you all further details regarding scheduling. If you have any questions regarding this letter, please feel free to contact us at the admissions office by phone at (212)-427-7263 or email. We look forward to hearing back from you._

_We at Columbia University are pleased to welcome you and feel that you will make a great addition to our student body. We wish you the very best in success in your future and hope that you will find all of your needs satisfactorily met here. Thank you for your prompt attention and for choosing Columbia University._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Ian Oliver_

_Ian M. Oliver  
>Admissions<br>Columbia University."_

_"Shit Britt, are you serious?" Santana screamed while throwing her arms around the blonde's neck. "I got in!"_

_"You got in!" Brittany's smile grew as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's waist. "I'm so proud of you, San. I never had a doubt that you wouldn't."_

_"I can't believe this." Santana chuckled as a few happy tears fell down her face. "We're going to New York together B, it's really happening."_

_Brittany gently kissed the salty wetness away while cupping the brunette's face in her hands and staring down at her adoringly. "I can't wait to start a new chapter of our lives with you."_

_"Me too." Santana smiled before pressing her lips to Brittany's._

We were going to move to New York together, live in a tiny shoe box apartment, go to our classes for the day and then come back home to each other. She'd sing for me while I'd dance for her, we'd order cheap Chinese food from the place down the street and live off of that and ramen noodles until we got a steady job after graduating college. It was always our plan. No back up, no doubts.

We talked about kids a few times, only on certain occasions because I could tell that it made Santana uncomfortable. She was never sure about having kids, but I knew it was only because she doubted her skills as a parent. I always knew she'd be an amazing mother though.

This is living proof that not everything goes as planned. Some dreams are made to be broken.

...

"Why do you want to go to the mall?" I ask with a raised brow. I've been laying outside by my pool, sunbathing in my favorite red bikini when Kurt randomly showed up and demanded we headed to the mall for an emergency shopping trip.

"I need a new outfit for New York tomorrow. Sebastian's taking us on a small trip to the city just for a little getaway." Kurt explained while taking a seat on the chair next to me. "I'm getting sick of Miami anyways, I felt like I haven't left since the Paris trip a few months ago."

"Oh come on Hummel, I'm sure you have plenty of clothes that haven't been worn yet." I roll my eyes while sliding my ray bans back down. "I've seen your closet, it's like every gay man's dream."

"He's taking me on a special date. I need something new for this!" Kurt exclaims while dramatically fanning himself. "It's hot as hell out here, can you have Val make me a martini?" He asks, referring to my housekeeper/personal chef.

I shake my head. "I gave her the day off." I explain once I see the frown appear of Kurt's face.

"Ugh, this is not my day." Kurt groans and buries his face in his hands.

"I'm seriously starting to thing you have a drinking problem." I chuckle while Kurt glares at me. "Shouldn't you be at home taking care of your kid anyways?"

"Levi's spending the day with his Uncle Puck." Kurt tells me, before reaching for my glass of wine and taking a sip.

"Sure, you can have some." I roll my eyes, but Kurt just waves me off.

"Hey, I deserve this. Levi refuses to wear clothes, I guess he's going through some faze, so I spent most of my morning chasing him around the house to get him dressed." Kurt sets my now empty glass back on the ground and smooths out his hair. "That little boy will be the death of me."

"He'll be even worse as a teenager." I remind him with a playful grin.

Kurt scoffs and nods in agreement. "It'll be like dealing with a mini me. Lord help us all."

"I'm so incredibly grateful that I don't have kids." I smirk, only half-truthful. Sure having kids would be nice, I'd have someone to write out in my will to list off my small fortune and properties to.

But I'm pretty sure that part of my life is over. Taylor and I are barely considered _dating_, and the one time I had the lady balls to bring up kids, she almost choked on the grilled chicken sandwich she had been eating and referred to them as 'ungrateful little shits.'

"Me too. One Santana Lopez is enough, we don't need another spawn of Satan roaming the Earth." Kurt shudders at the thought. "And imagine him/her during their teen years, wowww."

"Yes, thank you Kurt." I reply sarcastically. "Because I don't remember myself as a teenager."

"You were awful." Kurt continues. "I can't even begin to count the number of slushies you'd throw on me daily. The red kind was a bitch to get out of my hair."

"Ok, as much as I love reminiscing the past, I think that's enough." I swing my legs over the edge of the chair and stand up. "Give me an hour to get ready and we can leave." I tell him while adjusting my bikini top. "Am I driving us or are you?"

Kurt shrugs while following me back inside. "You can. I want to ride in the red Ferrari with the top down, kind of like Gwen Stefani in the _Hollaback Girl_ music video."

"That may be the gayest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth." I run my fingers through my hair while taking the back staircase up to my bedroom.

"Was that supposed to be an insult?"

"Maybe, maybe not." I shrug. "Depends on how you take it."

"I'm out and proud, so I gues it's a compliment." Kurt grins while taking a seat on the small couch in the hallway across from my bedroom.

"Oh I know you are, Lady Hummel." I laugh and ruffle his hair just to piss him off. "I won't be long." I add, before disappearing into my room and locking the door.

Kurt may be gay, but he's not stupid. I'm smokin' hot, and I don't need any leering going on.

...

Emma leans back against the leather seats in her father's Audi, the frown she left the condo with still resting on her face. Yes, she's somewhat mad at Brittany for practically forcing her to go on this shopping trip with James, but she knows that her mother is only trying to help their relationship.

They have an ok relationship, but nothing close to a healthy father-daughter bond. And she doesn't want one with him, he doesn't deserve it.

But if it makes the older blonde happy, then she's fine with pretending to be a daddy's girl and play around with her father for the day. A few hours won't kill her and besides, it'll put the man in a good mood.

"What store do you want to visit first, Em?" James asks, glancing at his daughter in the passenger seat, before focusing back on the road. "Forever 21, American Eagle, Chanel, we have time to go to all of them."

"It doesn't matter." Emma forces a smile. "I'm fine with anything."

"Well, I figured we could stop by Ben & Jerry's before we start shopping, I know how much you love their ice cream." He chuckles.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I could go for some ice cream right now." The younger blonde responds while patting her flat stomach for emphasis.

James tilts his head downwards and a tight smile appears on his face, replacing the genuine one that took place only a few seconds ago. "Do you always wear clothes this revealing?" He asks in a tone that the girl quickly recognizes.

It's unsettling.

Emma frowns as her eyes scan over the simple red tank top and white shorts she's wearing, not quite understanding how it classifies as _revealing_. "It's just a tank top and shorts. This is what everyone wears since it's always like, a hundred degrees outside." She tells him.

"I don't need my daughter dressed as a streetwalker." He cuts her off. "Eleven year olds shouldn't have on booty shorts and skin tight tank tops. We're going to the mall, not a night club."

"But-"

"You don't wear that to school, do you?" James tightens his hold on the steering wheel. "I know some of my colleagues have children who go to school with you, I don't need bad publicity for this family."

"No, we wear uniforms." She reminds him.

"At least there's that." The dark haired man murmurs to himself. "After today, I don't want to see you dressed in anything similar to what you're wearing now. Do you understand?"

"Well mom got it from-"

"Oh, so your mother bought the outfit for you." He nods knowingly. "Good to know."

"No, dad, I didn't say that." Emma quickly backtracks and shakes her head.

James sighs as his face hardens. "Emma, you know I don't tolerate lying." He states evenly. "Did you not just tell me that Brittany bought you the tank top and pair of shorts?"

She winces at his tone. "I did, but-"

"Then it's settled. No need to elaborate, I'll have a conversation with her later about this." He offers her a short smile. "Everything will be fine."

Emma cringes at the unpleasant thoughts that invade her mind as she thinks of the conversation that might leave her in her room with the door locked. "Dad, please don't." She says in a quieter tone, not wanting to upset the man further.

"The conversation is over, Emma." James snaps, and the young blonde cowers under his glare. "I'm sorry." He adds with a small sigh, his stormy eyes meeting Emma's clear blue ones. "I don't mean to lose my temper with you, I'd just prefer us to move on to a different topic."

Emma nods as if she understands and stays quiet, her mind working a million miles a minute.

Her new mission on this trip is to tire out her father, dragging him through every store in existence within the Miami mall, and maybe then he'll be too worn out to lay a hand on her mother.

Or at least she hopes.

...

Four hours. We've been in this mall for_ four hours_ and Kurt still hasn't found an outfit that fits his standards. I know these employees are about three seconds away from kicking us out all together, and I can't say I blame them. Referring to Lady Hummel as a diva would be an understatement. He's like Mariah Carey, Beyoncé, and Madonna mixed together, and _not_ in a good way.

Kurt's been nagging on this girl for the past five minutes about the difference between coral and magenta, and I swear if he wasn't one of my best friends I'd beat the shit out of him.

"Kurt." I sigh while sliding my ray bans to the top of my head. "Give the girl a break, they obviously don't have the color you want in stock."

"Who doesn't own a magenta button up polo? It's a common color!" Kurt defends while placing his hands on his hips.

I shrug. "Well they did say they have pink." I point out, then roll my eyes at Kurt's dramatic exhale.

"Not the same thing!" He snaps as he roughly rubs his temples. "Why don't you people get that!"

"Ok..." I take a few steps towards the store's exit. "Why don't you keep looking? I'll go walk around and see if there's anything else you might like." I tell him, knowing I won't be doing _that_ at all. But it's the only way Kurt would let me leave him during a fashion crisis.

"Alright, call me as soon as you see something. Anything." He gives me a pointed look before dragging the employee over to a different set of polos.

I give him a reassuring smile and nod before turning on my heels and walking out of the store, with no intentions of finding him an outfit for his super gay and supposedly _romantic_ weekend in the Big Apple.

I'm not paying attention to where I'm going, and I'm knocked out of my daze when I feel another body collide with mine. I get ready to snap at whoever the hell just about knocked me over, when I realize it's only a kid.

I look down at the young blonde, no older than thirteen, and quickly offer her my hand to help her up.

_Get it together Santana_.

"I'm so sorry, are you ok?" I ask her, noticing the way she's rubbing her elbow slightly. It's pretty red, so I'm guessing she landed on it.

"I'm fine." She offers me a small smile while taking my hand. "Twice in one day." She adds, but I have no idea what she means.

When she looks up and her piercing blue eyes meet mine, I swear I lose my breath for a second.

_She almost reminds me of..._

"Santana, let's go. I'm running out of time here." Kurt huffs and loops his arm through mine, wasting no time dragging me away from the mysterious young blonde.

I glance over my shoulder and she notices, giving me a small wave before turning around and heading in the opposite direction.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. **

**And yes, James is an ass. **

**...**

"How was the mall?" I ask later on that night, while threading my fingers through Emma's hair into a long braid that falls down her back. We're currently sitting in her room, having a Pixar movie marathon while snacking on chips and soda.

Emma and James had gotten back around five, but James got called into work while I was in the middle of making dinner, and he left without saying goodbye.

Emma's been pretty off since she's been home and it worries me. She'll barely talk to me, so I know that she won't just voluntarily tell me what's bothering her.

Emma shrugs. "Fine I guess." She answers shortly.

"Did you get anything new?" I try again, knowing it takes a few questions to get her talking. She's always been this way; so stubborn.

"Yeah, I got some clothes." She nods her head towards the pile of shopping bags in the corner of her room. "Dad-approved of course." She adds with an eye roll.

I frown in confusion. "Huh?"

"He didn't talk to you?" She asks, sounding half surprised and half relieved.

"Talk to me about what?" I question with a raised brow, wondering what she did that was conversation worthy for James.

Emma glances over her shoulder and squints at me, attempting to read my facial expression. It's exactly how Santana would look at me when she was doing the same thing; her brows would furrow and her eyes would narrow as she concentrated and tried to figure out what I was _really_ thinking. "Nothing important." She settles on and turns back around.

Well now I'm curious, so I definitely won't be accepting that as an answer. "Emma..." I say with warning. She knows that I don't like it when she keeps things from me.

"Mom, I promise it's nothing to worry about." She tells me with a small sigh. "I'd tell you if it was serious."

I stare at her for a few moments, pondering on whether I want to drop the conversation or continue it.

"Ok." I finally say, and her body visibly relaxes. "But if I hear anything about this conversation from your father, I won't be happy." I state while giving her a pointed look.

Emma's face drops. "But...it's over something stupid." She defends, hoping it could help her get out of the situation.

I flinch at the word, and she notices. "Not stupid, that's not what I meant," She looks down guiltily. "I just meant that it isn't worth getting upset over." She corrects.

I furrow my brows at this new piece of information. "Why would it make me upset?" I ask her slowly, hoping that she would just give it up and tell me what's been going on. I was never that good at guessing games, so this is getting tiring.

"I-" She stops and chews on her bottom lip.

"Did something happen at the mall?" I frown. She nods, but continues to stay silent. "...Can you tell me about it?"

She sighs, but nods again.

"I tried on this really pretty dress, it was an all white sundress with a lacy back." Emma says quietly while picking at her nails, something she rarely does. "I thought he would like it, for a second I actually thought he might say something nice or whatever." She pauses and shrugs. "Instead, he said_ 'take it off. I don't need you walking around looking like a slut like_ _your mother.' _Her voice wavers and looks up at me with her sad blue eyes, and I feel anger rise in my chest.

I'm really getting tired of James making our child cry. It happens far more often than it should.

"Come lay with mommy." I open my arms and pull her close to my chest, needing to feel her against me. "Don't cry, baby." I sigh when I hear quiet sniffles and feel the wetness dripping on my neck.

"W-why w-would he say that t-to me?" She sobs and clings to me helplessly. "I-I thought I d-dressed f-fine."

"Baby girl, there is nothing wrong with the way you dress." I gently comb my fingers through her hair in an attempt to relax her.

"Dad thinks so." Emma whispers against my chest. "He called you a slut." She chokes on another sob and her body shakes. "Y-You're n-not a slut." She wraps her arms tightly around my torso and buries her face further into my chest.

Instead of responding verbally, I cup her face in my hands and pepper kisses wherever there's a trace of a tear, earning a small smile from my little girl in response.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart. We can talk more in the morning." I tell her softly while smoothing some of her hair back.

"I love you." She mumbles sleepily while returning her head back to my chest, which is safely secured under my chin.

"I love you more." I reply and gently press my lips to her forehead.

...

"I'm your date for the dinner party tomorrow night, right?" Taylor asks, her breath against my bare chest causing me to shiver.

I nod. "Yeah, can you make it?" I question with slight doubt. Taylor isn't exactly the most reliable person, half of the time I'm lucky if she even shows up for an event I've invited her to.

"Of course." She says while dragging her thumb over my nipple, which immediately peaks under her touch. She smirks. "I know this is an important dinner to you, so yes, I'll be there."

"Ok cool." I smile and play with a loose strand of her hair.

Taylor places a gentle kiss on my lips while hovering over me. "What should I wear?" She asks me, before going back to placing soft kisses across my collarbone.

"Ummm..." I take a deep breath and attempt to focus on the question, "Preferably a black dress. It'll look good against my red one." I tell her.

She places a final hot, open mouthed kiss between the valley of my breasts, before sliding back up my body and staring down at me with her bright green eyes. "Ok. What time do you want me here?" She raises a brow when I shrug.

"It starts at eight, so probably around seven." I say while trailing my finger up her arm.

She smiles as a glint of mischief appesrs in her eyes. I raise a brow questioningly. "Why don't we make it six-thirty, that way we can have a quickie before we leave." She wiggles her brows.

I chuckle and tangle my fingers through her hair. "Are you ever _not_ horny?" I tease.

Taylor hums whiel nudging her nose against mine. "It's kind of hard not to be when you're dating someone as sexy as you."

I start to smirk, before I catch the last part of the sentence and freeze.

_Dating? _

"Wait, what?" I look up at her with furrowed brows.

"What?" Taylor frowns. "Did I say something wrong?"

"You said-" I clear my throat and think about my next few words very carefully. "Are we dating?"

"Well yeah, you didn't think I was just using you for sex did you?" She raises a brow and looks at me expectantly

"Well..." I awkwardly shift underneath her and avoid her eyes. "I wasn't sure..."

Taylor pulls away from me and moves towards the edge of the bed. "Is that all you thought our relationship was? Sex?" She asks harshly.

"No!" I say quickly and shake my head. "I just wasn't sure what you wanted. We never talk about it." I explain.

She rolls her eyes, brushing some of her hair out of her face in the process. "Come on Santana, seriously? I thought it was obvious."

"Clearly not." I mumble.

Taylor scoffs and gets off of my bed, searching for her discarded clothes around my bedroom floor. "Clearly." She snaps while pulling on her shorts.

"Wait, where are you going?" I slide out of bed and follow her out of the room.

"I have work to do." She states as we walk down the staircase. She's a few steps ahead of me. "I'll see you later, Santana." She says once we reach my front door.

I frown and gently grab her wrist. "Are you mad?"

"No." She pulls away and sighs, "I just need to go home. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok..." Taylor places a chaste kiss on my cheek, before turning on her heels and heading towards her Bentley.

It isn't until another car drives by and honks their horn at me, that I realize I'm still naked.

Oops.

...

**7:30pm**

"Britt, are you ready?" James calls from inside our walk-in closet, where's he's putting the final touch for his suit. "We need to be leaving in the next five minutes. I have a car coming to pick us up." He adds.

"I am." I reply with a nod while giving myself a final once-over in the full length mirror hanging on the wall. I'm wearing a long black dress that hugs my body in all the right places, as James would say, with my hair pinned up in a neat bun and my makeup light except for the bright red lipstick.

He emerges from the closet in a matching black suit, specially tailored for him, and smiles. His hair is smoothed back, just the way he likes it, his facial hair is neatly trimmed and his green eyes are shining. He looks very handsome.

"You look beautiful, Britt." He tells me and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you." I return his smile. "You look very handsome."

"I hope so, it took me longer than you to get ready." He jokes and I laugh. It almost feels genuine.

"Would you go ahead and run by the house rules with Em while a grab the rest of our things?" James asks me.

"Sure." I nod and leave our bedroom, walking to the other side of the house where Emma's bedroom is located. James thought it'd be better if we all had our own space, so he decided to give her the large bedroom in the left wing.

Emma's door is already wide open when I reach it, so I don't bother knocking.

"Hey baby, what are you doing?" I ask while standing in front of her vanity mirror to check my makeup.

"Sitting. Watching tv." She shrugs. "Nothing special."

I nod and carefully smooth back any stray hairs that might have fallen out of my bun. I'm not sure how that would happen though, considering the excessive a mouth of hairspray I have on right now. "Ok. Well as always, make sure you don't-"

Emma immediately interrupts me and shakes her head. "Mom, I know. We've been over this a million times."

"I'm just going over them with you." I tap my fingers against the smooth surface of the vanity while watching her through the mirror. "Don't answer the door under any circumstances, your father and I both have keys so there wouldn't be a reason for us to knock. Do _not_ have anyone over when we aren't here. I mean it, Emma." I shoot her a pointed look, remembering what happened last time.

"I won't!" She assures me. "I got this, calm down. I know what to do."

"Are you sure?" I ask, and I know I'm being the over protective, beyond worried parent right now, but you can't blame me for wanting to make sure everything is ok before I leave my eleven year old alone for the night.

"Mooommmm." Emma groans and buries her face in my hands.

"Ok, ok. I'm sorry." I sigh and take a deep breath. "I'm just worried."

"I see that." She smirks, amused.

"Emma, honey, make sure you call us if you need anything." I tell her while putting my teardrop diamond earrings in. "Anything at all, make sure you call me."

"Mom, god I will." Emma rolls her eyes and sits up straight. "Stop worrying so much, it's not like I haven't been home alone before." She states.

"I know." I sigh. "I'll always worry, though."

"Well you shouldn't. I'll be fine." Emma smiles and hops off of her bed, making her way over towards me.

"I know you will." I nod while wrapping her up in my arms. "Please call me if you need anything." I whisper into her hair.

"I will, I promise." She kisses my cheek and I pull away.

"Have a good night baby, stay safe." I softly kiss her forehead and give her one last once-over, before leaving her room.

James is already waiting for me at the front door when I make it downstairs. "Ready?" He asks, offering me his arm.

I take it and nod. "Ready."

Twenty minutes later, we pull up beside a nice fountain which is sitting in front of a large white mansion. Our driver hops out of the car and quickly makes his way to James's side, opening the door for him. James helps me out of the car and we approach the house, climbing the few steps it takes to get to the double doors.

I go to ring the doorbell, but James quickly stops me by grabbing my hand. "Do not mess this up for me." He tells me sharply, and any warmth I saw in his eyes earlier disappears.

"I won't." I squeeze his hand gently to reassure him. "Everything will be fine."

He stares at me for awhile, his eyes gazing into mine as his mouth twists into a thin line. "Don't mess this up for me." He repeats, but less harsh this time.

"Ok." I nod, and he knocks on the one of the double doors.

"James!" An older man in an equally nice suit opens the door and pats my husband's shoulder. "I'm glad you could make it." He adds with a bright smile, before his eyes fall on me. "And Brittany, aren't you just breath-taking tonight."

I blush and offer him a small smile. "Thank you, we're glad to be here."

"Well I'm glad." The man takes a few steps back and ushers us inside. "Please, come in."

James shoots his colleague a charming smile and holds his finger up. I look at him curiously. "Can you give us a minute, Todd?" He asks politely and glances down at me with a tight smile.

"Of course. Everyone will be in the ballroom when you're ready." He informs us, and with a final smile he's gone.

I pull my gaze away from our intertwined hands and up to my husband's eyes. "What-"

"Just smile and nod. Do not speak unless spoken to." James says lowly, before pulling me inside the large house with him.

...

An hour later, nothing much has happened. We've walked around the house, James showing me off like a prize as he introduced me to the people he works with, and I smile and shake their hands like the trophy wife I seem to be.

James lives for compliments, so when an elderly couple we pass tells him that he's a very lucky man to have such a beautiful wife, he practically swoons.

"Are you having a good time?" He asks while leading me through a crowd of people.

"Yes." I say half-truthfully, hoping it sounds believable enough. "This house is beautiful."

"It is." James agrees and tightens his hold around my waist. "Maybe we should buy one like this." He says thoughtfully.

My head snaps in his direction and I frown. "I thought you liked the condo?" I question, because every time I'd suggest buying an actual house, he would get angry with me and claim that our condo was perfectly fine and he didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

"I do, but I think we should have more space if we decide on expanding our family." He says happily and my blood goes cold.

_What?_

"What do you mean?" My voice is somewhat scratchy from my throat going dry, so it almost hurts to speak.

James shrugs and looks around the room, as if he's searching for someone. "You know, just in case we decide to have another baby." He states as if it was obvious.

"Another baby?" Suddenly, I'm starting to feel nauseous.

"Yes Brittany, that's what I said. Are you deaf?" He rolls his eyes. He probably thinks I'm stupid, when really I just wanted clarity.

I would never say that to him though, it would just upset him.

I open my mouth to reply when James abruptly stops and gazes at something across the room. I'm assuming he's found what he's been looking for.

"Brittany, I'd like you to meet someone." James says as he leads me away from his colleagues and over to one of the tables in the corner. "She's my parter on this next case, it's the biggest one we've had all year." He tells me with a smile. "With the two of us working together, there's no way this guy won't be going to jail. We're the best in the state."

"Oh?" I try to sound as interested as possible once we approach a woman in a tight red dress who's back is facing us. James nods in response and taps the woman's shoulder. She slowly turns around with a curious look and my stomach plummets. I think I may faint.

"Brittany, this is Santana Lopez."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, a question I've been getting a lot recently is something along the lines of ****_'Is Santana gonna end up being the hero in this story and save Brittany from James?' _****and the answer to that is no. That would be wayyy too predictable and cheesy lol, the ending is already planned out and it will be as realistic as possible. But considering what goes on from now until then, you'll just have to stick around to find out... :)**

**And this is a shorter chapter, sorryyyy but it's still pretty good.**

**...**

_"I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited, but I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it. I'd hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded, that for me, it isn't over." Adele, Someone Like You _

_..._

Why. _Why, why, why_. Of all the lawyers on the East coast, it had to be Santana.

It could've been Greg Matthews at the law firm in Orlando or Keith Harris in Boca, but no, instead it's _Santana_.

The woman I was once deeply in love with.

James clears his throat and nudges my side, nodding his head towards Santana expectantly. I glance at her and notice that she's still staring at me curiously, except now there's a ghost of a smile on her face. It makes me shiver unwontedly.

"Hi, I'm Brittany. Nice to meet you." I say with fake-sweetness as I plaster a smile on my face and offer my hand for her to shake.

I've mastered the fake-happiness thing by now like a pro, sometimes I even believe myself.

The hint of a smile falls from Santana's face and she frowns at my actions, cocking her head to the side. "Um..."

"I've heard so much about you, Ms. Lopez. You're quite the talk around Miami." I continue, my smile never faltering. "I'm sure my husband is excited to work this case with you."

"Oh, I am," James joins in with a deep chuckle, "Greenburg won't know what hit him." He jokes.

Santana's lips form into a tight smile. "He sure won't." She states dryly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Hey babe," A blonde woman comes up next to Santana and presses her lips to her cheek. I grimace. "Who's this?" She asks, smiling at James and I.

My smile momentarily falters as I'm watching their interaction. I know I shouldn't be bothered, because I'm married and Santana has every right to be with someone else if she wants. I mean she's beautiful, I knew there was no way she would stay single. I guess somewhere deep inside of me, there was always that small hope though.

But Santana deserved to be happy, and if I'm not the one to make her happy then it should be a good thing that she has someone else, right?

_No._

"This is James , I'll be working with him on the case I've been telling you about." She glances at me, "And this is his wife, Brittany." She adds coldly.

I stare down at the marble floor guiltily.

"Cool, it's nice to meet you." The blonde smiles and stretches her hand out. "I'm Taylor."

James awkwardly shakes Taylor's hand, before returning his hand to my waist. "Well it was nice seeing you tonight, Santana. Both of you." He flashes Taylor a charming smile. "But unfortunately we have to get going, it's getting late and we need to get back to our daughter at home."

Santana's face falls and she looks directly at me. "You have a daughter?" She asks quietly, and I feel my heart clench.

Because there will always be that small place inside of me that thinks, _Santana_ should have been Emma's other mother.

"Yes, she'll be twelve in November. She's an very talented dancer and an incredibly intelligent student. We couldn't be more proud." James states proudly with a broad smile.

"She sounds great." Santana forces a smile and wraps her arm around Taylor's waist, almost possessively. The action makes my stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

"She is." James nods and places a soft kiss to my temple. "I'll see you at the firm tomorrow, Santana. Have a good night."

"You as well, James." She says, then looks at me. "You too, Brittany."

I just nod, because forming a proper sentence isn't working out for me at the moment.

James gives them one last bright smile, before hooking his arm through mine and leading me out of the room.

...

"Be still," Emma scolds me for what seems like the thousandth time in the past half hour, "I seriously can't braid this right if you keep moving."

"Sorry." I mumble apologetically, before tilting my head back to it's original position.

"Why are you always so antsy, mom?" Emma chuckles and continues to braid my hair. "You're like a five year old boy who's getting his hair cut."

"Hey, I can't help it. Being still for a long period of time sucks, my muscles have to be moving." I defend with mock hurt while placing my hand over my chest.

"Speaking of muscles moving," Emma pauses momentarily and bites her lip, "I need help with one of my dance moves."

"Sweetheart, you know I haven't danced in years..." I shake my head sadly. "I wouldn't be much help."

"You can't just forget how to dance." She reasons, "I just need help with my footing, I can never land it right. It'd probably be a piece of cake to you."

I chew on my bottom lip and begin to shrug, before remembering I'm supposed to stay still and drop my shoulders. "Emma, I don't know. It's been so long, I doubt I'll be able to dance the way I used to."

"Mom." Emma ties an elastic around the end of the long braid falling over my shoulder, then wraps her arms around my neck. "What do you always tell me when I say I can't do something?" She asks softly, resting her head on my shoulder.

I sigh, because she's too smart for her own good. "That you won't know until you try."

"Exactly." She smiles triumphantly. "Can I show you the dance tomorrow, maybe you can give me a few pointers?" She suggests, and by the glint of hope in her eyes I know I won't be able to say no.

"I guess I can take a look at it." I agree with a small smile.

Emma squeals happily and releases her hold on my neck, clapping her hands together excitedly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She says while bouncing on her knees.

"Shh, sweetheart your father's sleeping." I gently chastise.

Emma nods and stops her bouncing. "So, how was the party?" She asks, crossing her legs and facing me.

"It was good," I tell her half-truthfully. "The food was delicious and the people were nice, for the most part." I shrug and examine my nails. A manicure probably wouldn't hurt.

"For the most part?" Emma raises a brow, "How so?"

I smile at her curiosity, but shake my head in response. "Grown-up things that you shouldn't her worried about." I wink, and she rolls her eyes.

"Ugh, whatever. I'm practically an adult." Emma points out as if it were obvious.

"Please," I chuckle, amused. "You're barely a pre-teen." I remind her.

"Not the point." She mumbles, making me laugh. "Your eye's getting better," She states, gazing at the faded bruise around my eye. "Does it still hurt?"

"No." I tell her honestly while shaking my head. "It really hasn't been sore at all, mainly just numb."

"Did you put that cream I gave you on it?" Emma asks hopefully, and I can't help but smile down at her. She truly is amazing.

"I did, baby." I nod and kiss her forehead. "It helped, thank you again."

She smiles shyly. "You're welcome."

"You ready for bed?" I ask while sliding off of Emma's bed and pulling her covers back for her to climb under.

"Yeah." She nods and wiggles under the sheets, reaching her arms out for me.

I comply and lean down, wrapping my arms tightly around her torso as she buries her head in my chest.

"Night mom, I love you." Emma says tiredly before pulling away and snuggling into the comfort of her blankets.

I lean down and press my lips to her cheek gently. "Goodnight honey, I love you too." I whisper. "So much." I add, before heading towards her bedroom door and leaving the room.

...

"You seem down." Quinn states while watching me carefully as I move around the kitchen.

"How observant of you, Sherlock." I reply sarcastically, not bothering to turn around.

I can practically see Quinn's raised brows when she says, "Wow, ok. Someone's in one of their _moods_ today." I think about coming back with another snark remark, but not in the mood to go back and forth with Quinn right now, I just shrug instead.

"Seriously though, what's wrong with you?" Quinn eyes me curiously. "You haven't been like this since that night at the club." And then it must've dawned on her, "Oh my god wait, did you see Brittany again?"

"Way to crack the case, Nancy Drew." I roll my eyes and finally turn around to face her.

"Where? When?" Quinn throws the questions at me without bothering to take a breath in between. "Did she actually speak to you this time, or just run away again?"

Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm being questioned for a crime.

"She was at the dinner party last night." I state dryly. "With her husband."

"With her- _oohhhhh_." Quinn's eyes widen and her mouth falls open slightly. "She's married?" She asks softly.

"Mhmm." I focus my attention back on slicing tomatoes for the taco salad I'm preparing.

"Oh Santana..." Quinn's sighs, and I hate how sympathetic she sounds right now. I don't need her pity. "I'm sorry."

"It's whatever," I blow it off while pushing the meat around the skillet with my spatula. "I haven't seen her in years, and I shouldn't be surprised. Why would she still be single?" I chuckle and shake my head. "I don't care. At least she's happy."

Quinn still looks unsure but she reluctantly nods. "I guess." She mumbles, continuing to stare at me.

"I'm fine, Q. I'm not worried about it." I shrug and tighten my hold around the spatula. "Brittany's happy, I'm happy, everyone's happy." I say, emphasizing each _happy_ with a stab to the meat.

"Yeah, you seem happy alright." Quinn tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes. "It looks like you're murdering that meat over there, as if the first time wasn't enough."

"Oh, and you know what else?" I glance over my shoulder, completely ignoring Quinn's comments. The look on her face signals me to continue, "She has a kid, too."

"Whoa." Quinn breathes out. She seems as shocked as I was the first time I heard the news. Glad I'm not the only one. "Seriously?"

I try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. "She deserves a family." Is all I decide to say about the subject, hoping Quinn will just drop it.

Quinn's seems to sense the change in my demeanor and nods. "Well, you're still coming to the barbecue at my place this weekend right?" She asks, and I'm relieved she's changing the subject.

"Of course. Our barbecues are my favorite." I shoot her a genuine smile and turn the stove off since I already fixed our plates. "Will there be alcohol?"

"Santana, our kids will be there." Quinn replies with an eye roll while gladly accepting the plate I hand her.

"Which is _exactly_ why I'm asking about the alcohol." I tease.

Quinn laughs and shakes her head. "There might be _some_ just for you."

"Whew good, I was worried I would have to deal with all of you sober." I say, dramatically placing my hand over my heart and throwing my head back.

"We deal with _you_ sober everyday, it's the least you could do." Quinn retorts with an amused smile. "Oh, and you have no idea how much Callie has missed her Aunt Sanny." She adds.

"I've missed my C-biscuit as well." I chuckle, referring to the adorable little green eyed blonde. "I feel like we haven't had a tea party in forever."

"You're very long overdue." Quinn nods in agreement. "I think I've been your stand in these past couple of weeks. But I've been told that I'm nowhere near as good of a guest as you are." She informs me quietly, as if it were a secret.

"I am pretty awesome." I laugh out.

"Don't flatter yourself." Quinn takes a sip of the diet coke I handed her a few minutes ago and sighs. "So back to this Brittany situation, do you think you'll see her again?" She questions, setting the glass back on the table and taking a bite of her food.

"Possibly, her husband is my partner on my next case." I state nonchalantly, not paying any attention to Quinn basically choking on a crunchy taco shell.

"Excuse me, what?" She yells, and I wince at her tone. "What the fuck Santana, you could have mentioned this earlier!"

"Sorry." I mumble.

Quinn scoffs. "No you're not." I shrug, indicating that she's right. "What a hell of a coincidence. We should be drinking wine, not diet coke." She runs her fingers through her hair.

"Nah, the_ drinking my problems away_ days are over." I lean back against my couch. "I've actually started dealing with my problems now."

"Whoa, when did you grow up?" Quinn smirks while I toss a couch pillow at her, "Kidding, I'm just kidding."

"Are you really?" I raise a brow.

Quinn tilts her head back and yawns. "Of course not." She smooths out her white sundress, then scratches the tip of her nose. "I need to get going, Callie's school lets out in twenty minutes."

"Ok." I nod and take our plates to the kitchen, setting them on the island for Val to deal with later. "Is there anything specific you'd like me to bring Saturday?"

"Yes, bring that kick ass macaroni you always make. I've been craving it for these past few days." Quinn states, and I can see her mouth practically watering as she continues to talk about it.

What can I say, I make a banging mac & cheese.

"Will do." I nod while walking with Quinn to the foyer, "Is that all?"

"Yeah, we're handling everything else. I'll call you about the details tonight." Quinn opens the left side door and takes a step outside. "I want more details on this Brittany situation also, so don't think that conversation is over." She shoots me a pointed look as she walks down the pathway to her car.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." I roll my eyes and wave at her as she hops in her BMW and backs out of my driveway.

...

James has been out, meeting with Santana a lot these past few days. It's such a weird situation, and I can't help but worry every time he leaves the house. Not because I'm worried about him cheating, mainly because Santana's a lesbian, but because I know that Santana could inform him on our past at anytime.

James has no idea that I was so emotionally and physically involved in a relationship with another woman. As far as he knows, I'm as straight as the steel light post outside of our condo. I'm not proud of keeping something that was such a huge part of me away from him, but I knew it would be best not to tell him.

I knew, I always _knew_ that he would be upset if I told him. He would be so _angry_ with me. He's had his fair share of gay slurs, which I'm guessing he'll be putting away since he is now working with Santana, but I know he's not at all accepting of her sexuality.

Business wise though, he'll keep his own personal opinion uninvolved for the sake of the case. His reputation lies on if he wins or loses.

I'm still deeply lost in my thoughts when someone knocks on the door, that I don't acknowledge it until the banging becomes increasingly louder. I pull myself away from my comfortable position on the couch and open the door, smoothing my hair back so that I at least look halfway decent.

I squint from the sunlight that peers through the door and allow my eyes to adjust to the three figures standing in front of me.

My heart momentarily stops when I realize who it is.

...

**Brittany doesn't seem too thrilled with Taylor, lol**

**Maybe Brittany will give dancing another shot?**

**Who's at the door? Hmm..**

**Also, next chapter you'll meet Kurtbastian's son and Quam's daughter**

**tumblr- brittanafor3verr**


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: this chapter doesn't end in a cliffhanger, yay  
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**last chapter wasn't supposed to end in one, but I was still debating on who would be at the door... so that's why it ended the way it did. **

**enjoy the new chap :))**

...

"Brittany, dear, don't you look lovely." Ellen, James's mother, says with a bright, forced smile as she wraps her arms around me in an uncomfortable hug.

"Oh, um, thank you," I smile back, even though it's clear she's lying. "How are you?" I ask politely once the hug breaks.

Ellen smooths out her long, golden blonde hair and chuckles. "I'm doing amazing. William and I just visited Italy for our anniversary last week, it was beautiful." She gushes.

"Wow, that sounds like it was fun." I glance behind me, noticing the front door is still wide open. "Would you like to come inside?" I ask, deciding it was the most appropriate thing to ask.

"Oh yes, thank you dear." Ellen moves her oversized Chanel sunglasses to the top of her head and motions towards the white Mercedes sitting in the driveway. "William and Amelia are bringing our bags inside. Which guest bedroom will we be staying in?"

Wait, _what_?

I stare at her for a few moments, attempting to get my scattered thoughts together. "You're staying here?" I manage to choke out.

She frowns and nods. "Yes, didn't James inform you? I told him about our arrival a few weeks ago, he said that you were perfectly fine with it." She states somewhat defensively.

What I've learned from eleven years of marriage with James is that his mother does not like to be told she is wrong. Much like James himself.

"I must've forgotten." I smile weakly. I feel my face muscles betray me as James's father and younger sister continue to get closer.

"You must have." Ellen agrees and gently nudges me out of the way to let William and Amelia through.

"Hello Brittany," William offers me a genuine smile as he sets the Louis Vuitton suitcases in the middle of the foyer. "How have you been?"

"I've been good, thank you." I then turn to Amelia and give her a small wave, "Hey Mel, what have you been up to? Any cute boys?" I tease.

Amelia laughs and shakes her head, "No, no. I'm mainly focused on graduating high school. I can't believe I'm almost halfway through my senior year, it's insane."

"Time flies." I agree.

"Why don't you tell Brittany about your college offers?" Ellen suggests with a wink. "Amelia has already been granted early admittance to _two_ Ivy League colleges." She states proudly.

Amelia blushes. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Don't be ridiculous!" William shakes his head in protest and places his hand on the younger blonde's shoulder. "How many other kids in your school have gotten this opportunity? Two or three?"

"Two." Amelia nods.

"Exactly." Ellen turns to me, "Columbia and Brown have practically begged for her to enroll in their early admissions courses." She informs me.

"They sent _one_ letter mom, I wouldn't exactly classify that as begging." Amelia points out, but Ellen chooses to ignore her and continue to give me a full-blown lecture on how I could possibly get the same opportunities for Emma in the future.

"Ellen, you're talking her to death." William shakes his head and wraps his arms around both women. "Why don't we go ahead and get settled, then I'll take everyone out to lunch. My treat."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Please Brittany, I insist." William smiles, and Amelia quickly nods in agreement.

"Yeah c'mon Britt, it'll be fun." She pleads.

Well, it looks like the relaxing day I had originally planned on having is canceled.

"I'll go freshen up and meet you guys back here in about fifteen minutes." I tell them while heading over towards the staircase. "Ellen, William, you two can stay in the guest bedroom down the hall from Emma's room. Amelia can take the other one, or you can stay with Emma. It doesn't matter."

"Ok, cool." Amelia nods, before the four of us part pays to our respective rooms.

...

"Callie, don't go any further sweetheart." Quinn yells when she notices the little blonde dog-paddling towards the deep end of my pool.

I invited Quinn and Callie over a few hours ago for a little _girl's_ day, which we've mainly been lounging by the pool while sipping mimosas and apple juice for Cal. It was just the three of us until Kurt called and informed me that he was coming over with Dalton until Sebastian came home from work.

"Mommy, I can swim!" Callie defends herself with a pout while swimming over towards us.

Quinn rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "I know you can baby, but you remember what daddy told you about going to far?" She questions knowingly, and Callie seems to recall the conversation she had with Sam a few nights ago by the look on her face.

"To not to." She mumbles with a frown, and I can barely stifle my laughter.

"Exactly." Quinn's HBIC smirk returns and she glances at me, "Didn't Aunt Sanny promise to do cannonballs with you today Cal?"

My face drops and I narrow my eyes.

_Fucking Quinn Fabray_.

"Oh yeah!" Callie squeals happily and hops out of the pool, running over to my chair with a large smile plastered on her face. "Swim with me Aunt Sanny!" She grabs my hand and attempts to pull me from my sitting position.

"I can't right now, Cal." I smile apologetically while flipping Quinn off behind my back, "I need to head to work soon, actually."

Callie's big green eyes stare at me and I instantly feel guilty, almost giving into her right then and there.

"I'll swim with you, Cal!" Levi exclaims while running out of my house in nothing but bright green swim trunks and Spongebob arm floaties. "I have an extra pair of floaties if you need 'em. They have Patrick on them."

"I don't need arm floaties, I can swim." Callie huffs while folding her arms across her chest, "Only babies use those."

"Callie!" Quinn scolds and shakes her head disapprovingly, "Apologize to Levi. Now."

"But-"

"Callie Kaia Evans." Quinn states in a sharp tone, and the little girl drops her head guiltily.

"Sorry Levi. You're not a baby." She grumbles reluctantly.

I try and fight the smile threatening to spread across my face, failing miserably. "I can't swim that well either Lev, you're not the only one." I tell him with a wink.

"Really?" He asks quietly.

"Oh yeah." I dramatically nod my head and usher him to come closer. "Come here, I'm gonna tell you guys a story." I say as Levi climbs in my lap, and Callie takes the empty spot next to me.

"About what?" Callie asks curiously while cuddling into my side.

"The day I learned how to swim. Well _kind of."_

_"Santana, it's really not that hard." Thirteen year old Brittany insisted, glancing at the large pool behind her._

_"Bullshit," Santana grumbled and stood her ground, glaring at the clear blue water behind her blonde best friend. "The most common death world wide is drowning in a backyard swimming pool." She stated nonchalantly._

_Brittany scrunched up her nose. "I don't think that's right..." She said slowly, and Santana huffed._

_"I don't care. I'm not getting in." Santana stubbornly shook her head and headed back inside._

_"Santana! Wait!" Brittany wrapped her hand around the Latina's forearm and pulled her back over to the water. "I can teach you, and then we'll be able to swim together at the beach next week." She said happily._

_"Yeah, I don't think so"_

_"Santannnaaa," Brittany whined as a pout formed on her lips. "Please let me teach you how to swim. It's easy, I promise."_

_Santana rolled her eyes and looked away from the blonde's pleading blue eyes. "Your easy isn't the same as mine, Britt. And I can't die today, Puck's party is this weekend and I'll be damned if I miss it."_

_"You won't die, stop being such a pouty baby." Brittany placed her hands on her hips, "I even taught Lord Tubbington how to swim."_

_Santana snorted, "He can't swim, he probably just floats because he's so big."_

_"Santana!" Brittany scolded and shook her head, "He's big boned, don't be so mean." She frowned._

_"Ok, ok. I'm sorry, B. You can teach me how to swim, but the first time I almost drown is the last time I get in this pool." Santana stated, giving the blonde a pointed look._

_"Sweet." Brittany smiled brightly and dragged Santana towards the deep end, standing near the edge._

_"Britt, the shallow end is down there." Santana pointed to the opposite side._

_"I know, silly." Brittany laughed, "We have to jump in down here so we can go ahead and get used to the water. It's really cold."_

_Santana's eyes widened, "Um...no. That's an awful idea."_

_"No it isn't," Brittany insisted, "You know how to cannonball right?" Santana nodded slowly, "Ok, so we'll both jump at the same time and then we'll swim to the corner," She pointed towards the corner beside the diving board, "And you can hold onto the edge while I show you the basics."_

_"I don't know..." Santana mumbled hesitantly._

_"Do you trust me?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Then take my hand and get ready to jump." Brittany smiled and offered her hand for Santana to take._

_Santana whined in protest but reluctantly took the blonde's hand and held it tightly._

_"Now on the count of three will jump ok?" Brittany told her while glancing down at their feet. "Oh, and make sure you hold your nose so water doesn't go up it. That's painful."_

_"Ok." Santana nodded and pinched the bridge of her nose._

_"One..."_

_"Two..."_

_"Three!" Brittany yelled and ran towards the water, her grip on Santana never faltering._

_"Brittany! Slow down!" Santana screeched, before forcing herself to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath as the two hit the water in a loud splash._

_"Brittany! I'm drowning! Oh god, I'm going to die!"_

_"San, calm down. You can touch the bottom here." Brittany laughed while attempting to still the Latina's flailing arms._

_"I can't-wait what?" Santana abruptly stopped her movements and stretched out her legs, blushing furiously when her feet hit the ground. "Oh..."_

_Brittany gave her an amused smile and shook her head. "You're cute."_

_"Am not." Santana mumbled while folding her arms across her chest._

_"Do you want to do this another day? It looks like it's about to rain." Brittany asked while glancing up at the grey and cloudy sky._

_"Yes." Santana quickly nodded and attempted to run to the stairs._

_Brittany gracefully swam past the brunette and climbed out of the water, immediately wrapping her towel around her._

_"Britt, where's my towel?" Santana asked shakily and wrapped her arms around herself._

_"I must've forgotten it." Brittany frowned, "Here, we can share." She opened up the towel and ushered Santana under._

_"I'm barely covered." Santana whined and continued to shiver._

_"We're almost inside." Brittany rolled her eyes, "Plus, my mom bought me Old Yeller so we don't have to borrow it from my sister anymore, I know how much you love that movie."_

_"I don't love it." Santana defended._

_Brittany quirked a brow, "You always cry at the end."_

_"No I don't!" Santana grumbled, tightening the towel around her body._

_Brittany bit her bottom lip to stifle her laughter. "Whatever you say, San."_

"Your friend sounds like fun." Callie states, her eyes filled with wonder. "What's her name?" She asks.

I smile before answering, because I can't help to think how much Callie reminds me of a young Brittany.

"Brittany." I tell her while pushing back some of her wild blonde hairs. "Her name was Brittany."

"Like Britney Spears?" Levi asks with wide eyes.

"Seriously Kurt?" I chuckle, before looking down and nodding. "Kind of like Britney Spears sweetheart. I think she's a better dancer than Britney though."

"Whoa," Callie says in amazement and tugs on my sleeve, "Can she teach me how to dance?"

_Shit._

"Umm..."

"We haven't seen her in awhile, Cal." Quinn joins in and catches my eye, "But maybe we can get you dance lessons from someone else if you're really interested."

"Ok." Callie shrugs, and I'm thankful she's young enough to forget things and move on.

"What are we discussing out here?" Kurt asks while strutting outside and over to the four of us in a plain white shirt, plaid shorts, and loafers.

"How you're taking Vogue's summer looks a little too seriously." I laugh while looking over his outfit.

Kurt rolls his eyes and takes a seat next to Quinn on the couch. "This is fashion Santana. Remember, I had an internship there for three years." He reminds me.

"Yeah, yeah. How could I forget the time you gave Rachel Berry a complete makeover in the vault." I smirk, remembering the phone call I received the next day.

"It was truly a blessing in disguise." Kurt agrees.

I check the time on my phone and sigh, "I need to head inside to change. I have a meeting to attend in an hour."

"Lame." Quinn pouts, hitting me in the head with Callie's wet towel. "Always working, Lopez."

"Gotta pay for this big a-butt house somehow." I quickly correct, remembering the six and four year olds sitting next to me.

"I like big butts and I can not lie!" Levi yells at the top of his lungs, and I snort.

"Levi!" Kurt shakes his head and holds his hand over his son's mouth. "Sebastian may or may not have an obsession with that song." He whispers to us.

"You're a hot mess." Quinn chuckles while scooping Callie up in her arms, "Let's get changed into some dry clothes, Cal. We have to meet daddy for lunch soon."

"Can I get chicken?" Callie asks in a serious tone and rests her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"Sure, baby." Quinn laughs and winks at Kurt and I, before heading into the house.

"I guess we should get going too, huh little man?" Kurt winks at Levi and stretches out his hand for him to take.

"Can we go by McDonald's daddy?" Levi asks happily.

"Maybe. I'll have to see if Papa has any plans for lunch." I hear Kurt tell him as I follow the two inside.

"Cool." Levi nods, before turning to face me. "Do you wanna come Aunt Sanny?" He asks sweetly.

I shake my head sadly, "I can't today Lev. But how about this, I'll take both you and Callie to the beach next week." I tell him, my heart melting at the wide smile he gives me.

"Promise?" He asks while holding out his pinky.

I can't help but think about old times when I wrap my pinky around his and say, "Promise."

_..._

"Ms. Lopez, good afternoon." James says from his spot at the large oak table in the middle of the spacious room.

"Good afternoon to you as well," I offer him a short smile, before taking the empty chair in front of him. "How was the meeting with Mrs. Remes yesterday? I'm sorry I couldn't be there, there was a family emergency."

"It's fine," He smiles and waves it off, "It was interesting, she supported new information against Dean. I'll have to dig a little deeper to confirm it, but it seemed relevant for the most part." He informs me.

"That's good." I nod. "Is a date set for trial yet?"

James shakes his head in a negative. "Not that I know of. Although, Judge Cunningham has informed me that Dean is currently on probation and being held down at the police station for questioning."

I raise a brow at this new piece of information and tap my red nails against the smooth surface of the table. "He's down at the station right now?"

"Yes, two officers have been questioning him for the past twelve hours attempting to get _something_ out of him. Anything." James pulls his ballpoint pen out from behind his ear and begins jotting down notes.

"Mrs. Remes accusation against her husband is bizarre." I state randomly.

James looks away from his files and stares at me curiously, before nodding. "You're correct. But since we're considered two of the most successful lawyers on the East Coast, we had to take it." He shrugs. "If we win this, our names will go down in the book of recommendations for the Supreme Court."

"Exaggeration, much?" I chuckle.

"Maybe a little." James grins.

"But I just don't understand," I stress my bottom lip while running my free hand through my hair, "Why someone would murder their children." I grimace at the statement.

James shakes his head and shoots me a pointed look. "We can't automatically assume they're dead. As of right now, they're missing."

"I think we both know that they aren't _missing_." I snap. "Some sick bastard took their lives without a valid reason, and I couldn't be more sickened by it." I hiss out angrily.

"We live in a sick and twisted world." James agrees, "That's why we have the Criminal Justice system, to drop the crime rate and keep killers off of the streets."

"Interesting theory you have there." I tell him, uninterested. "Although, I can't say that I completely agree with you. There are plenty of murderers and abusers still out there. It'd be impossible to catch them all." I state sharply. "And unfortunately, some will never be caught. I wouldn't be surprised if Dean turned it around and blamed everything on his wife."

James runs his free hand through his hair and gives me a look that makes me squirm in my seat. "I don't think it's your place to comment on someone else's situation." He says lowly.

"I don't think it's your place to tell me what I should and shouldn't do." I snap while narrowing my eyes. "I'm not a fucking child, do not speak to me like one."

"I wasn't speaking to you like a child. I was merely offering you a piece of useful advice." James returns his attention back to his work.

I sigh heavily and shake my head, "Do you have the claim in document form? I'll re-read the file tonight and bring it back tomorrow."

James nods and hands me one of the manila folders. "The statement and claims from both parties are in there. I managed to snag partial statements from Dean to support Mrs. Remes."

"You shouldn't have done that." I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"It's legal." James defends, but I just shake my head.

"You know what else is legal? _Abortion_. But does that make it ok?" I hiss out. "They'll be able to use this against us now, because of your sketchy ass. We don't need anything they can use against us this early in the case. We haven't even been to trial yet."

"Calm down, Ms. Lopez. I understand why you're upset, but I can assure you that they won't be able to turn this around on us." James tells me confidently, "I have connections in the business to get what I need for my clients. Mrs. Remes is completely covered."

I watch him carefully while pondering on what to say. "Just- just don't do anything else without informing me about it first, ok? I would like to have some type of insight as to what is going on in this case. We're partners, remember?"

"You're right, and I apologize for not informing you first." James says sincerely, and I offer him a small smile.

"Ok, drama aside." I lean forward in my seat and rest my elbows on the table. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

James shrugs and leans back. "Go for it."

"Your wife, Brittany." James raises a brow, "How long have you two been together?"

James stares at me for several moments, before answering. "Almost eleven years."

"Eleven," I repeat quietly, and mindlessly draw patterns on the surface with my index finger. "Where did you meet?"

"We went to college together. We had a math course together."

"MIT?" I ask without even thinking about it.

James's head snaps in my direction as he slowly nods. "How did you know that?"

I stop my ministrations on the table and return my hands to my lap. "Lucky guess." I mumble, before gathering up my things and tucking the folder under my arm. "I need to get going, I promised my friend that I would babysit for her tonight and it's getting late." I explain.

"Of course," James nods understandingly, "Have a good evening, Ms. Lopez. Drive safely."

I tell him the same, before leaving the room.

...

**7pm**

"Mom," Emma whispers and harshly tugs on the sleeve to my Carmel top, "I can't sit through a dinner with them." She states, her eyes never leaving James' family sitting at our dining room table.

"Em, you have to." I chuckle quietly and shake my head, "They aren't that bad, you're just over-exaggerating it." I tell her with a small, amused smile.

"Mom," Emma narrows her eyes, waving her hand in their direction, "Nana asked me if I had decided on what college I would be attending after high school. I'm eleven." She huffs.

"She's just concerned about your future, honey. She's the same way with Amelia, that's just how she is," I explain while smoothing back her hair. "I think she may have a college fund set up for you, I know your father and I do."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Literally seven years away. Why are we even discussing this now?"

"Hey, it's never too early to think about your future." I remind her.

"I-"

"Dinner's ready!" Ellen states happily while motioning for us to come into the dining room. "I made my famous gluten-free, low carb grilled chicken parmesan with grilled asparagus."

"Gross," Emma mouths, and I gently nudge her and shake my head.

"Be nice," I whisper, before taking the empty space beside James. Emma sits across from me and beside Amelia, while Ellen sets plates in front of everyone.

"So Brittany," William begins after everyone says grace, "Have you ever thought about going back to work?"

"She doesn't need to go back to work." James states before I can answer.

William frowns at his son's actions and sets his fork down. "Well maybe she would like to get out of the house, James. I'm pretty sure Brittany is perfectly capable of speaking for herself." He says and glances at me.

"I don't think I'll be going back to work anytime soon." I tell him softly, focusing on sliding a piece of shrimp around my plate.

William nods, "Well, there's always a position open at my firm for you if you change your mind." He tells me. "We've been looking for a new secretary for awhile now."

"She won't." James snaps, and I give William a sad smile.

"Thank you for the offer, but it's not something I'm interested in at the moment." I tell him, half-honestly.

This isn't the first time going back to work as been brought up, I've done it quite a few times in the past five years. Each time though, James would say, 'there's no point in going back. We have a daughter to raise.' And then the conversation would be dropped and we'd pretend like it never happened.

We seem to do that a lot.

"Just think about it," William says seriously, looking me directly in the eyes.

I nod, and promise that I will.

"There isn't anything wrong with being a stay at home mother. I was one for eighteen years." Ellen informs me with a wink.

I smile politely but say nothing, feeling somewhat uneasy of being compared to James's mother.

James scoffs. "Of course there isn't. And Brittany is a damn good one, look how amazing Em is."

Emma smiles and stares down at her plate, causing me to chuckle quietly at her sudden shyness.

"As entertaining as this dinner was, I'm beat." Amelia sighs while tossing her napkin on her plate.

"Me too." Emma agrees, "Do you want to come to my room? Mom just bought me The Fault In Our Stars."

"Yes! I've been wanting to see that." Amelia exclaims and slides out of her chair with her plate in hand.

"You can just leave that there Mel, I'll get it later." I tell her when she starts to head towards the kitchen.

"You sure, Britt?" She raises a brow, and I nod.

"Go hang out with Emma, I'll get this cleaned up." I reassure her with a smile.

"Ok." Amelia shrugs and follows Emma out of the dining room.

"Excuse me," Ellen says while pushing her chair back, "I'll be back in a few minutes. I need to use the ladies' room." She smiles, and quickly leaves the room.

"Do you need any help cleaning up, Brittany?" William asks as he stacks the discarded plates together.

I shake my head and take the plates from him. "No thank you, I've got it."

"Alright, if you're sure." He gives me a pointed look, and I chuckle.

"I'm positive, William. Thank you anyways."

"I guess I'll head to bed then. It's been a long day." William sighs and kisses my cheek, before resting his hand on James's shoulder. "Goodnight you two."

"Good night." James answers shortly, before following me to the kitchen.

"Is everything ok?" I ask, as I begin to rinse off the dishes and open the dishwasher to load them.

"I should be asking you the same thing," James rests his left hand on the counter and watches me carefully. "You seem a little off."

"I'm fine." I tell him quickly.

"Ok." James nods. "I love you." He tells me after a short pause.

And for a second, I almost believe him.


	7. Chapter 7

_"You had a lot of dreams that transform to visions  
>The fact that you saw the world affected all your decisions." Lil Wayne, How to Love<em>

...

"Is James always this much of an ass?"

I jump, not expecting anyone else to be home. James offered to take his parents, Amelia, and Emma out for ice cream while I opted to stay home and relax. Ellen and William are good people, but they can be stressful to deal with for long periods of time.

"Amelia, you scared me." I place my hand over my chest, attempting to slow my rapidly beating heart. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs. "I'm not a big fan of ice cream." She closes the bedroom door behind her and takes a seat on the bed, crossing her legs Indian style and facing me.

"Oh." I slowly nod.

"You never did answer my question." Amelia states while playfully nudging her knee against my bare one.

"I'm sorry, what was your question?" I ask, shaking my head to knock myself out of the daze I'm apparently in.

Amelia rolls her eyes and chuckles. "I said, is James always this much of an ass?" She asks again. "Because he's been such a prick ever since we got here."

"Mel!" I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing. "Don't call him that, he's probably just having a bad week." I defend.

"So he's not always like this?" She asks again, but in a more serious tone. Her eyes are watching me carefully, and I avert my gaze to the floor.

"No, he isn't." I lie. He's much worse.

"You sure about that?" Amelia questions, and I shift uncomfortably.

"I'm positive." I state, not oblivious to the shakiness in my voice.

If she can tell that something's wrong at seventeen, I can't help but wonder how many more people can. Adults, kids, anyone.

The thought makes me weary.

"You can talk to me, you know, if you ever need someone to talk to. I won't tell anyone."

I chew on my bottom lip and nod, using every ounce of self control to keep my tears at bay.

After a few moments I think she realizes I don't plan on saying anything else and hops off of the bed, making her way towards the door.

Amelia pauses with her hand resting on the doorknob, and looks at me over her shoulder. "Once when I was younger, you told me that no matter what's going on, it's always a good thing to let someone know. Because keeping your feelings bottled up and hidden away is only going to damage you worse than telling the truth."

And then she leaves.

...

"You enrolled Callie in a dance class?" I laugh, imagining my ungraceful goddaughter learning how to be a ballerina.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Leave my baby alone, it's not her fault she's a little... off." She defends, trying not to laugh herself.

"Mommy! I'm ready!" Callie screams as she runs into the living room in an all black leotard, with her blonde hair falling messily down her back.

Quinn was never that great with hair.

"Come here Cal, let Aunt Sanny fix your hair for you." I state and accept the black elastic from Quinn, before pulling the little girl closer.

"Can you put it in a ballerina bun?" Callie asks sweetly while leaning back against my chest.

"Is that the way you want it, sweetheart?" I ask, and she quickly nods.

I can't help but pride myself for creating a perfect little bun that sits atop Cal's head on my first attempt, and also because it's a little something I have over Quinn.

"I just don't understand how that works." Quinn mumbles while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, don't be a pouty baby Fabray. You'll figure it out eventually." I pat her thigh in sympathy. "Go watch some YouTube tutorials."

"Shut up," Quinn smacks my hand away and pulls herself off of the couch. She smooths out her red sundress and flips her shoulder length hair over her shoulders. "Do you want to come with me to take her? Sam got called into work so he can't make it, unfortunately."

"Sure Q, I know you'll need a shoulder to cry on when you break down." I laugh, earning a light smack to my forearm.

Twenty minutes later, the three of us are walking into Star Dance Studio with Callie bouncing on her toes excitedly while Quinn looks like she's on the verge of a breakdown. I swear she cries over any and everything regarding Cal.

After we check in at the front desk, some guy wearing shorts that are way too short for him to be straight leads us towards the back where one of the studios are for the younger classes. Quinn's smoothing a few stray hairs from Callie's bun back and keeping them in place with a bobby pin, right as a girl walks up to both her and Callie.

"Hi, are you in this class?" The blonde girl asks with a smile, as she looks down at Callie.

"Yeah..." Callie mumbles shyly and hides her face behind Quinn's leg, who chuckles.

"I think she's a little nervous." Quinn tells her.

Blonde girl nods like she understands and extends her hand out to Callie. "I'm Emma. I'll be helping teach this class with Ms. Echols so I can make sure you don't get lost." She says with a bright smile.

I swear she looks familiar.

Callie peers from behind Quinn's leg and hesitantly shakes Emma's hand. "I'm Callie." She states with a small smile.

"Wow, what a pretty name." Emma says with a wink, before someone calls her name. "Class is about to start, do you want to come with me and I can help you get warmed up?"

Callie nods enthusiastically and takes Emma's hand, waving at Quinn and I before following her new best friend out of the waiting area.

As they're walking away, I catch something that Emma says that puts me at a halt.

"My mom used to be a dancer. She was even in glee club in high school, they won a national championship."

I blink a few times and glance at Quinn, who's thumbing through one of the outdated People magazines that had been sitting on the small table by the door. I'm guessing she didn't hear anything.

I shake my head slowly and convince myself I'm over thinking it, as I grab an Interior Design magazine and mindlessly flip through it.

It couldn't be.

...

The next day

I sigh and furrow my brows, having an internal debate as to whether I should buy Prego or Ragu sauce for the pasta Sebastian's cooking tonight for our weekly family/friend dinner at my house.

Since I rarely do anything but provide alcohol, Kurt sent me to the store with a long ass list of items they'll need to make dinner with. They're lucky I love them.

"What the hell is the difference between these things?" I mumble while examining both jars once again, still torn between which one to get.

"Prego is better." A soft voice says from behind me, and I almost drop both jars in surprise.

"What the fu-" I stop in my tracks when I'm met with familiar blue eyes. "Oh my god, Brittany." I place my hand over my rapidly beating heart and set both jars back on the shelf.

She looks down shyly as her cheeks flush. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She says, but I just shake my head.

"No, no. I'm glad it was you." As pissed as I was that Brittany chose to pretend she had no idea who I was in front of her husband, I think it's physically and emotionally impossible for me to stay mad at Brittany. Especially now since she's speaking to me willingly.

Brittany smiles and nods. "Um, how are you?" She asks, and my heart clenches at the fact that she sounds genuinely curious.

"I'm good." I return the smile and shrug my shoulders. "What about you? How have you been?"

Brittany's mouth forms a tight, forced smile. "I've been great." She states, and it's clear that she's lying. But for the sake of this unexpected meeting, I pretend not to notice.

"That's great." I shift awkwardly on my heels. "James seems like a nice guy," I tell her truthfully. "I'm glad you found someone after, you know."

She quirks a brow and nods, "He is." She agrees, "I hope he hasn't been too bad to work with." She teases with a small smile.

I laugh. "He's been pretty good. We've only had a few disagreements so far, but other than that it's been smooth sailing." I inform her.

"I'm glad, he can be a little hard-headed sometimes." Brittany chuckles, and holy shit, I've missed her laugh.

"I'm sure." I run my fingers through my hair and run my tongue along my bottom lip to wet it. "So I'm guessing MIT wasn't all that bad after all." I state, remembering the constant phone conversations we used to have before the break up. I'd complain about the people at Columbia and Britt would complain about the 'no pets rule' at MIT.

"I guess it wasn't." Brittany shrugs. "I still missed Lord T though, he always made me feel better when I remembered how far I was from home." She says, and I catch the double meaning in that sentence.

"Yeah, me too." I agree softly, and hold each other's gaze. I can't help but feel like the same love-struck teenager I was in high school when Brittany looks at me like that.

"I should probably get going." Brittany breaks our intense stare and grabs one of the Prego jars off of the shelf, then hands it to me. "Never get Ragu, one time I found a dime in there." She whispers.

"I'll remember that." I laugh. "Um, can I..." I trail off and unconsciously wring my wrists.

My heart stops when Brittany reaches out to still them.

"Sorry." Brittany says and quickly pulls her hands back. "I just- you're nervous about something. You're never nervous around me." She notes quietly.

I just wave it off and clasp my hands behind my back. "Can I give you my number, Brittany?" I ask bluntly, not wanting to tiptoe around the bush anymore.

"Um..." Brittany's eyes shoot around the aisle, which is completely empty besides the two of us. "I don't-"

"Just to have it." I tell her quickly. "I don't want us to jump back into a friendship or anything, but I figured we could possibly work up to that?" I suggest. "Everyone misses you, and I know they'd be thrilled if you came by one of our legendary barbecues. Especially Quinn, we could reunite the-"

"The Unholy Trinity." Brittany finishes with a smile.

"Exactly." I nod, and watch her carefully as she pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and hands it to me.

I feel giddy with excitement as I type my name and number in her contacts, adding the cat kissy-face emoji, before handing it back to her.

She glances at it and laughs, then locks her phone and returns it back to her pocket. "Have a good evening, Santana. Maybe I'll see you around."

I know I'm smiling like an idiot when I reply with a short and simple, "You too, Brittany."

...

As I'm making dinner later on that evening, Emma drags herself into the kitchen with her shoulders slumped and tears welling up in her eyes.

I quickly set the spoon I had been stirring the sauce with on the counter and crouch down so we're at eye level. "Hey, what's wrong?" I ask while pushing a few stray hairs out of her face.

Emma shakes her head and chokes on a sob, immediately falling into my open arms. She buries her face in the crook of my neck and cries, which only worries me more.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?" I ask more desperately this time, trying to figure out what I could do to make her feel better. "Did something happen at school?"

On Monday's and Thursday's after school, Emma rides home with one of her friends after play practice and is dropped off here around six. James came up with the arrangement, because he says that it gives Emma more time to spend with her friends that doesn't take away from family time, since he doesn't leave his office on those days until seven.

"I-I failed m-my biology test." Emma sobs and clings onto me for dear life.

"What?" I breathe out, now realizing why she's so upset. "How is that possible? You studied for it all week."

"I don't know." Emma mumbles against my neck. "Dad's gonna be so mad." She says sadly.

After always looking our best, school is the second most important thing to James. He constantly pushes Emma to be the best, academic wise, and is disappointed in anything less than an A.

She hasn't failed a test in her life, which is why it worries me as to what James's reaction will be towards the situation.

"We'll explain to him what happened ok? I'll be there with you." I tell her in the gentlest tone I can, while rubbing her back slowly. "Can you make it up?"

Emma nods. "I have to come after school one day this week, she'll take whichever grade is better."

"Ok." I sigh. "Clean your face, and then you can help me with dinner. Your father should be home soon." I tell her while turning back to the saucepan.

"Where's Nana and Grandad?" Emma asks while glancing around the empty kitchen.

"They're out having dinner with some old friends tonight. Amelia is with them." I explain.

"Oh, ok." She nods and looks at me one last time before leaving the room.

An hour and a half later, James, Emma, and I are sitting at the table while silently eating dinner. Emma hasn't said a word, and I don't blame her, but I know that it'll be easier if we both go ahead and get it over with.

"Emma," I say softly while giving her a knowing look, "Is there something you need to tell your father?"

James's head raises at the mention of himself and glances at Emma curiously. "What's going on, Em?" He asks, and Emma deflates in her seat.

"I-" She shoots me a desperate look as her eyes rim red.

I sigh heavily and set my fork down on my plate. "She failed her biology test." I inform him, not missing the way Emma's averts her eyes to the floor in shame.

"You what?" James sets his own fork down and stares at Emma, waiting for an explanation.

"I don't understand what happened, I studied all week for it. I was so confident when I took it, I thought I made a one hundred on it. We even reviewed right before we took it, so I swear I knew all the answers. I have no idea how I made an F, I'm so sorry." She rambles out as tears spill onto her flushed cheeks.

James says nothing for a few moments, and I hold my breath, not sure what to expect.

"Emma, I would like to speak to you in your room, please." He states while dabbing his mouth with the cloth napkin, before throwing it down on his plate and sliding his chair back.

Emma glances at me nervously, and my body tenses at the small sense of fear in her eyes as she reluctantly follows him out of the room.

I sit in my chair for a few more moments and try my best to think positive as I begin to clean up the kitchen. It isn't until I hear James start to yell a few moments later, that I drop everything and run full-speed up the stairs to my daughter's room.

"How could you fail? I didn't raise a stupid child." James snaps harshly while taking a step forward. I can already see where this conversation is going.

"James, no." I quickly move in front of Emma and shake my head. "Do not touch her." I state lowly.

"Get out of my way, Brittany!" James orders while grabbing onto my shirt.

"Hit me instead." I beg, not budging from my place in front of Emma. "Please, just hit me." I place my hands on top of his as my eyes connect with his furious ones. "I'm the one your mad at, not her. I could've helped her study more but I didn't, she wouldn't have failed if it weren't for me." I reason, desperately wanting him to accept it.

"Mom, no!" Emma cries from behind me, but I gently shush her by softly squeezing her bare thigh.

James narrows his eyes at me and watches me carefully as I tremble under his gaze, fear shooting through my body at what could happen if he chose to push me out of the way.

"Please." I say one last time and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to come.

And it did.

Emma screams at him and lunges forward, but I hold her down and shake my head.

"Stop." I order weakly while gently squeezing her wrists.

James yells a few more curse words, before leaving Emma's bedroom, slamming the door behind him. A few moments later I hear the car start, and assume he's leaving, which I'm relieved for.

"Baby, grab my phone for me please." I say softly, pointing towards her dresser where I left it.

Emma wipes her tears from her face and pulls herself off of the floor the retrieve my phone, before silently handing it to me.

I go to my contacts and scroll until I reach the name I'm looking for. I tap the foreign number and bring the phone to my ear, counting the number of rings before I hear the familiar raspy voice answer.

"Santana." I breathe out, tilting my head back and squeezing my eyes shut to block out some of the pain. "I need your help."


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: No James in this chapter, everyone celebrate **

_..._

_"I like to say we gave it a try. I like to blame it all on life. Maybe we just weren't right, but that's a lie, that's a lie." Ariana Grande, Almost Is Never Enough_

...

Pulling into the driveway of the address Brittany gave me had myself somewhat unsettled. She sounded urgent on the phone, and one thing I know about Brittany is that she's always calm. No matter what the situation is, she would always hold it together and allow me to break, which I appreciated more than she knew.

I decide to grab my phone and call her, to let her know I'm here, because it feels rude to just honk. I would also most likely wake the neighbors, and I'm not in the mood to deal with people bitching right now.

I'm in the middle of scrolling through my _B_ contacts when two blondes come into view, and my jaw slacks at the smaller one, whom I also surprisingly recognize.

"Santana, thank you for coming." Brittany says softly as I climb out of my car. "Oh, and this is my daughter, Emma."

Emma stares at me for a moment, before realization dawns on her and she lets out a short laugh, despite the situation. "Wow."

"We just keep running into each other, don't we?" I laugh while shaking my head, and she nods in agreement.

"So weird." Emma then turns to a very confused-looking Brittany and smiles. "Santana and I ran into each other at the mall, and then at my dance studio where her friend's daughter is taking a class." She explains.

Brittany's mouth forms into an _O_ shape and she begins to nod, before wincing from the motion. I frown and squint my eyes from the glow the streetlights were producing, noticing the long, thin slash mark running from Brittany's temple to her cheek.

"Brittany, fuck, what happened?" I ask with wide eyes as I take a few steps closer.

Brittany shakes her head and backs away, causing me to frown.

What the hell?

"I have a favor to ask, Santana." Brittany says quietly, her eyes averted downwards. I take this chance to glance at Emma, who's staring at her mother with a similar frown.

"Ok." I nod, urging for her to continue.

Brittany's eyes momentarily connect with mine and she sighs. "I need you to let Emma stay with you for the night."

"What?" Emma and I say at the same time, and it's clear that neither one of us were expecting that answer.

"Santana, I have some things I'm going to need to deal with later and I don't want her to be here for it." Brittany explains evenly, using one of her hands to stroke her daughter's cheek. "I would highly appreciate it if you could do this one thing for me, just for the night. I'll come by and pick her up tomorrow before school."

"Ok, fine." I shake my head. If Brittany has some shit to deal with and wants me to watch her kid for the night, fine. I mean, what harm could an eleven year old do?

"I'm not leaving you here!" Emma yells, shocking both Brittany and I, as her cheeks flush and her eyes begin to water.

"Baby-"

"No!" Emma cries and latches onto Brittany's waist, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's torso and burying her face in her chest.

Brittany chews on her bottom lip and wraps her arms protectively around the smaller blonde, gently swaying them back and forth. I stand a few feet away and watch in awe at how amazing Brittany's maternal instinct is.

"I need you to go with Santana, Em." Brittany states after several moments, and Emma shifts in her arms. "Please don't argue with me on this." She adds, noticing the frown spread across her daughter's face.

"Fine." Emma sighs as Brittany uses the pad of her thumb to wipe away any visible tears.

I walk closer towards the two, offering Emma a small smile when she glances at me.

"You have to at least let me take care of that cut for you, Brittany." I frown, cringing at how much worse it looks up close. "It could get infected if it's not treated properly."

Brittany looks weary at the idea and chews on her bottom lip. "I don't know..."

"It'll only take a few minutes, and Emma can just wait in the car so that we can leave as soon as I'm finished." I tell her with pleading eyes.

Emma nods in agreement. "Let Santana help you, mom." She says, and I shoot her a grateful smile.

"It has to be quick." Brittany finally states with a small sigh. "It isn't too bad." She adds, and I nod while turning back to Emma.

"It's unlocked." I tell her, nodding towards the car.

"Ok." Emma pulls her small bag over her shoulder and climbs in the backseat, while I follow Brittany inside the condo.

We walk into the kitchen and Brittany pulls the first aid kit out of the cabinet, setting it on the counter in front of me. I grab a small cloth and head over to the sink, quickly washing my hands before wetting the cloth and walking back to Brittany, gently taking her face in my hands.

"Be really still, ok?" I say as my eyes connect with hers, and she gives me a small nod.

"Ok." She whispers. I break eye contact to focus on the wound, lightly dabbing it with the cloth.

"Sorry." I quickly apologize, noticing the way Brittany keeps wincing.

"You're fine." Brittany gives me a weak smile and I nod, continuing my ministrations.

I grab two of the largest band aids from the small box and carefully place them on the cut. "Make sure you take these off before you go to sleep so the cut can air out." I state while catching Brittany's eyes once again.

It isn't until Brittany's eyes not-so-subtly glance down at my lips that I realize just how close we are, and my breath catches in my throat.

Brittany stares at me intensely and slowly leans forward, and at the rate my heart is going right now I'm almost positive a heart attack is in my near future. My eyes flutter shut as I wait, on a thin line between relieved and upset when I feel Brittany's lips against my cheek.

"Thank you." She says softly, and the only thing I'm able to do is nod, because I don't think I'd be able to form a proper sentence at the moment.

Our little moment is shattered when Brittany's phone begins to ring from the island, where she set it a few minutes ago. Brittany steps away from me and turns around the answer the phone, in a forced cheerful voice.

The call lasts only a matter a seconds, when Brittany abruptly hangs up.

"_Shit_." Brittany hisses while slamming her phone down on the counter and turns to me with wide eyes. "You need to leave. Now."

"What, why?" I frown, and then Brittany's hand is wrapped around my forearm as she's pulling me through the living room. "Brittany, what's going on?" I ask again, receiving the same response I did a second ago.

Nothing.

"Please call me if there's any problem with Emma. I doubt there will be, but you never know." She glances towards my car, and then down the road. "Go, now."

"I don't-"

"Have a good night Santana. Tell Emma I love her." Brittany states, before turning back around and walking into the condo, immediately shutting the door behind her.

I blink a few times, attempting to make sense of what happened. Failing miserably, I walk back to my car at a quicker pace than before, the question of why Brittany went from calm to frantic in a matter of seconds still floating around the back of my mind.

I glance at Emma through the rear view mirror, who has her attention devoted to her phone, before pulling out of Brittany's driveway and onto the main road.

As I'm leaving the gated community, a black Audi zooms past me and I resist the urge to honk of the fucker for almost making me swerve off the road.

I keep watch of the vehicle in the mirror, quirking a brow at the direction it was heading.

I'm almost positive that was James's car.

...

The drive back to my place was silent and tense. I gave up on the hope of a conversation after my several failed attempts to start small talk. Emma sat quietly in the back, staring either at her phone or out the window. To say she wasn't happy was an understatement, I know better than anyone what pissed off looks like, and that's exactly what the girl was.

I internally groan at the sight of Kurt's BMW still sitting in my driveway, knowing I told everyone to head home once I ended the phone call with Brittany. But of course, Kurt's ass never listens so now I have to deal with him interrogating the shit out of me, which I am not in the mood for.

Wanting to avoid the whole awkward introduction situation, I tell Emma to wait in the car as I climb out. She agrees and goes back to whatever she had been doing on her phone before while I shut the door and approach my home.

I toss my keys on the table in the middle of the foyer and walk into the living room, where I'm assuming Kurt will be.

"I was wondering when you were getting back, San." Kurt states from his spot on the couch. "I almost called you; fifteen minutes turned into an hour."

"Kurt, go home." I state, and almost feel guilty at how harsh it sounded, but I honestly don't have the time for small talk.

"Ouch." Kurt frowns while standing up, brushing off his slacks. "I poured wine out for the two of us to enjoy and everything." He says and motions to the two glasses sitting on the coffee table.

I shrug. "Rain check."

"But I-"

"Kurt, now." I snap, pointing towards the door. Kurt narrows his eyes at me as he brushes past me and heads towards the foyer.

"I'll call you tomorrow." I promise him as I follow him outside, praying to God that he doesn't notice the extra person sitting in my car.

"Yeah, yeah." Kurt rolls his eyes and hops in his car, rolling down his window as he begins to back out of the driveway. I quickly run back inside and grab my keys from the table, then use my automatic switch to open the gate. "See ya, Satan!"

"Bye Lady Lips!" I yell after him, and Kurt laughs and shakes his head before driving away. I stare in the direction his car disappeared into for a few more moments, before letting out a long exhale and walking back to my own car.

I knock on the window on Emma's side until she looks up, and nods when I motion for her to get out.

"Your house is huge." She states while following me inside, and I hum in agreement.

"Do you want something to eat?" I ask her as I check my watch. "Val's probably asleep by now but I can make you a sandwich or something, if you're hungry."

"I'm not hungry, just tired." Emma admits. "Can I take a shower?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Let me show you where the bathroom is." I state, before leading her upstairs to the guest room.

An hour later, I'm rearranging a few of the pillows on the full-sized guest bed for Emma to be more comfortable. I set a small throw blanket at the end of the bed in case she gets cold in the middle of the night, because it's near impossible for me to sleep in anything above 64 degrees.

"Do you think my mom's going to be ok?" Emma asks quietly as she climbs onto the bed.

I momentarily stop my actions and glance to my left, where Emma's watching me carefully. "Why wouldn't she be?" I ask slowly, and the younger blonde's mouth immediately snaps shut.

"You can trust me." I tell her, and she frowns.

"I just met you." Emma snaps back.

The kid has a point.

"Ok, that is true." I agree while pulling the comforter and sheet back for her to climb under. "But I would never, ever hurt your mother. She's my best friend." I tell her with a smile.

Emma raises a brow at me, but has a small sense of curiosity in her eyes. "How long have you known each other?" She asks while resting on her side to look up at me.

I kick off my shoes and mimic her actions, pulling the elastic out of my hair and letting the dark waves fall over my shoulders. "Since we were in second grade." I state, thoughts of the first time I saw Brittany with her pigtails and bright blue dress swimming around my mind.

Emma nods and shuffles a little closer to me. "Can you tell me the story?" She asks softly. "You don't have to if you don't want to." She quickly adds.

I smile. "Of course I'll tell you."

_"Hello parents and students, my name is Mrs. Wright, and I'm one of the five second grade teachers here at McKinley Elementary. You and your children can get settled, getting supplies together and putting things in their cubbies. Visiting will be over in ten minutes, so please don't take too long."_

_Santana rolled her eyes at the woman. She could already tell by her friendliness that the two of them most likely wouldn't get along. Then again, Santana didn't really get along with most people._

_"Santana, I have to go and get to work or I'm going to be late. I'll be here to pick you up after school." Her mother said, leaning down to kiss her daughter's forehead._

_"Ok." Was the only response Maribel got, so she simply nodded before leaving the classroom._

_Santana looked around at all the kids and their parents together, decorating their cubbies or setting their supplies by their seats at the multiple round, colorful tables. The younger Latina thought that stuff was stupid, she was never about decorating or designing anything to make it special._

_Santana sighed, and decided to go ahead and take a seat at one of the tables. She searched for her name before she found it, at the purple table in the corner. She hated the color purple. She started taking her pencils and notebooks out of her backpack silently, until a certain blonde bounced her way over to her._

_"Hi!" The blonde said happily, standing directly in front of Santana. She was at least a few of inches taller than her, which Santana didn't like because it just reminded her of how small she was._

_"Hi." The Latina mumbled back, focusing her attention on the notebook she was taking out of her backpack._

_"How come your notebook's black?"_

_Santana shrugged. "I like black." _

_The blonde frowned and shook her head. "But it's such a dark color. Like evil magic, or something."_

_"Magic?" Santana asked while furrowing her brows. "What?"_

_"Yeah! Magic! You know like unicorn dust and rainbow glitter and stuff. That type of thing." The blonde rambled._

_Santana gave her a weary look and glanced back down at her notebook. "Um, ok."_

_"I'm Brittany." The blonde added, smiling brightly at the smaller girl in front of her._

_"Uh...I'm Santana." Santana stated, finally looking up at the blonde._

_"Cool! You're my new best friend, ok?" Brittany smiled again while bouncing on the tips of her toes._

_Santana couldn't help the small smile that crossed her face. "Ok." She agreed with a small nod._

"So that's how you became friends." Emma laughs. "Mom is always so persistent."

"She was." I agree as Emma yawns and her eyes begin to flutter shut. "Get some sleep kiddo, it's pretty late." I tell her while unconsciously bringing my hand to her head, smoothing the long blonde hairs back.

"I'm glad my mom has you back." She mumbles sleepily. "She needs someone like you."

"I'm glad to have her back too." I admit honestly. "I've missed her."

I wait until Emma's breathing evens out before carefully removing myself from the bed and quietly leaving the room.

...

**5:45am**

Brittany wasn't lying when she said she'd be here early. I was thinking maybe 6:45ish, possibly 7, but no, I'm crawling out of bed at almost six in the morning once the sound of my doorbell ringing fills the house.

I attempt to rub some of the sleep out of my eyes and smooth out my hair as I'm walking down the stairs, which I know looks like a fucking mess, and slowly answer the door. I have to blink a few times before Brittany's face comes into clear view, and offer her a tired smile.

"I'm sorry it's so early, I just didn't want to risk her being late." She apologizes while rocking on the heels of her feet.

Still adorable.

"No, no, it's fine. I totally understand." I wave it off and step to the side. "Please, come in."

Brittany smiles as she enters my home, her eyes wandering around the foyer. "You have a beautiful home." She states.

"Thank you." I nod and lead her upstairs to the guest bedroom, where Emma had been sleeping for the night.

Brittany takes a seat at the edge while I opt to stand, and carefully brushes a few stray hairs out of the smaller blonde's face. Emma stirs slightly and sighs, unconsciously snuggling close to Brittany, who leans down to press her lips against her forehead.

I smile.

"Wake up, baby girl." Brittany whispers in the softest of tones that causes my stomach to twist, remembering how many times she's used that tone with me.

"Ughhhh, no. Five more minutes." Emma groans, and damn, it's like looking in a mirror.

Brittany holds back a chuckle as she glances at me, before looking back to the heap of blonde hair peaking out from under the large comforter. "Emma, you have to go to school honey. You're going to be late if we don't leave soon."

"I can just skip." Emma reasons with a shrug, and burrows herself further into the mound of pillows on the bed.

"You most certainly can not." Brittany shakes her head. "Up, now." She states more firmly this time.

"_Fineeeee_." Emma drawls out while throwing the covers off of herself and dragging herself out of bed. I laugh and grab Emma's bag, which she must've forgotten, before following the two back downstairs to the foyer.

"Thank you." Brittany says while glancing to Emma, who's half-asleep against one of the doors. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this."

"It was no problem, she's a good kid." I smile. "Did you get everything situated?" I then ask, remembering the main reason as to why Emma was here in the first place.

Brittany's smile momentarily falls, before she nods slowly. "Kind of." She sighs while shaking her head.

I can tell this is the last thing Brittany wants to talk about at six in the morning, so I decide to let it go and nod. "Ok. If you need anything else, I'm only a phone call away." I tell her while walking her to the door.

"I know. Thank you." Brittany gives me a small smile, before carefully waking Emma, who fell asleep while leaning against the door.

This kid reminds me so much of myself that it's starting to scare me.

"Bye Santana," Emma mumbles and offers me a small wave. "Can I come back here sometime?" She then asks, clearer this time.

"Sure, as long as it's ok with your mother." I tell her with a nod and glance to Brittany, who smiles.

"We'll work something out." She tells Emma while leading her out the door. "Bye Santana, thank you again."

"You don't have to keep thanking me." I chuckle while shaking my head. "But you're welcome, Brittany."

Brittany opens her mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it and nods instead, before taking Emma's hand and heading towards her car.

I continue to stand by the door and watch, until the black Audi is out of sight.

...

After dropping Emma off at school, I tiredly re-enter the condo while shaking some of my fallen hair out of my face. The only thing on my mind right now is taking a nap; last night was exhausting for me, both emotionally and physically, so even the smallest amount of sleep would be a blessing for myself right now.

"Brittany, dear, there you are." Ellen's voice calls from the kitchen, and I resent the urge to cringe.

A little sleep, that was all I was asking for.

"Come into the kitchen, I just made a fresh pot of coffee." She adds, and I can do nothing but exhale and straighten my posture as I enter my brightly lit kitchen, and take a seat at the island.

"Let's talk." Ellen states while sliding a mug of coffee in my direction, and I luckily catch it right before it tumbles off of the edge of the island.

"Ok." I nod slowly, wondering where this conversation would be going.

Ellen rests on her elbows and leans forward, looking me directly in the eye. I shift, slightly uncomfortable under her harsh glare, and search around the kitchen for a distraction.

I notice the picture of three-year-old Emma resting by the coffee maker and smile. That could work.

"James is my baby boy, as you're aware." She states. "He is the most important person to me Brittany, and it is very unpleasant for me to see him hurting."

Wait, _what_?

"Hurting?" I frown, completely clueless as to what she's referring to.

Ellen taps her mug and narrows her eyes. "While I was out with a few old friends last night, and received a phone call from my son, who seemed very distraught about an argument the two of you got into." She informs me while standing straight. "He has also informed me that it seems your marriage is suffering, and that is unacceptable. I'm sure you know that divorce doesn't run in this family. We fix the problem instead of running away from it."

I open my mouth to respond, but she immediately cuts me off.

"There's no need to thank me, but I've taken it upon myself to schedule you and James a session with a marriage counselor. One of the best in the state, if I may add." Ellen offers me a short, forced smile.

I shake my head, completely baffled at the audacity this woman has at times. "With all due respect Ellen, my marriage is none-"

"Maybe another baby would help with this problem." My face falls. James must have told her. "Children are a gift from God, and I'm very much aware of what positive effects they've had on many marriages." She pauses, and takes a sip of her coffee. "I think it will do you well.

I continue to stare at her, at a complete loss for words.

"Divorce will not be happening in this household. Not now, and not ever." Ellen adjusts the pearl bracelet on her left wrist.

I blink.

"I hope that is settled." She states with a firm nod, her eyes resting on mine until a return the action.

And then she leaves.

**...**

**hmm, thoughts?**


	9. Chapter 9

_"Since I've come on home, well my body's been a mess. And I've missed your ginger hair, and the way you like to dress. Won't you come on over? Stop making a fool out of me. Why don't you come on over, Valerie?" Amy Winehouse, Valerie _

**...**

**Four days later**

Today is the last day that James's family will be in town, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. Ellen has been giving me the cold shoulder ever since our little talk on Thursday, and I'm honestly just tired of dealing with her insane antics.

James has had this facade put up whenever we're around his family, where he acts like the perfect husband. He'll pull out my chair for me at dinner, he'll refill my wine once I've ran out, and he'll always tell me that he loves me whenever we're forced to part ways, even if it's only for an hour or so. I now understand how Ellen could have easily presented me as the one causing the damage, while James is the victim who is working constantly to help our marriage.

"Mom?"

I slowly open my eyes and smile when Emma's face comes into view. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are you ok?" Emma asks, her blue eyes filled with concern. "You haven't really moved all day, and you look sick." She notes.

"I'm ok." I nod while resting my eyes, again. "Just a little tired."

"Can I get you anything? Like medicine or juice?" She suggests while placing the back of her hand against my forehead. "You're a little warm."

"I'm fine, honey." I sigh and push myself up on my elbows. "But if you really want to help, you can get me a glass of orange juice."

"Ok, cool." Emma nods and slips off of the couch, jogging quickly to the kitchen. She comes back moments later with the large glass of juice and sits next to me on the edge of the couch, before carefully handing it to me.

I take a few sips and sigh, setting it on the coffee table to worry about later. I pull off my sweatshirt, with the help of Emma, since my body heat won't stay neutral and continues to flop between cold and hot, and set it at the edge of the couch; leaving me in my plain black tank top.

"Do you want me to cut up the air?" Emma asks while staring down at me.

I slowly nod. "Please."

She hops up again and turns the air to 68, before heading into the bathroom, coming back a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. She dabs it around my chest and neck area, and I can't help but smile, knowing it's what I would usually do when she had a fever or wasn't feeling well.

"Maybe a nap would help you feel better?" Emma suggests while setting the washcloth on the table, and grabbing the small blanket off of the back of the couch.

"Maybe." I agree with a long exhale. "Wake me up in a few hours, sweetheart. I have to take you to dance this afternoon." I remind her while briefly opening my eyes, which are now rimmed red.

"Ok mommy." Emma nods and leans down to kiss my forehead. "Feel better." She adds, pulling the blanket over my body and slips underneath, cuddling close. I wrap my arm around her torso and rest my head on her shoulder, feeling the sense of sleep take over as Emma begins to run her fingers through my hair.

...

"Cal, let's go. We're going to be late if we don't leave soon." I yell from the bottom of the staircase, where I'm sorting through emails on my phone. Callie appears a few moments later, in her pale pink leotard and ballet shoes. Her hair is falling out of the bun I had put it in earlier, but we're pushing it for time so I'll have to fix it when we get to the studio.

"I'm ready!" Callie exclaims while hopping down the stairs, one by one until she reaches the bottom. "Can we stop by McDonald's?" She then asks as we walk out the front door.

"We don't have time." I shake my head and grab her hand. "Maybe after dance, Cal." I then tell her, because it near kills me to see her upset.

Whipped for a six year old, yep.

"Cool." Callie smiles as I help her in the backseat of my car, making sure she's securely buckled before closing the door and heading to the front.

We make it to Starz in record time, and I'm a little surprised that I wasn't pulled over for the small amount of speeding I had to do to get us here on time. I make the smart decision to carry her on my back, knowing her little legs can only go so fast and we were barely making it.

"Aunt Sanny, can you put me down now?" Callie asks once we're inside, loosening her grip around my neck.

"Yeah, give me a sec." I nod and attempt to crouch down as best as I can in my skin-tight jeans and red pumps. Callie hops down with ease and takes my hand, pulling me towards the back where her class usually takes place.

I smile when I see a familiar blonde leaning against the wall on her phone in her dance wear, with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She glances up once we get closer, and smiles at the both of us.

"Hey Cal," Emma waves with a bright smile, before looking to me. "Hey Santana. I didn't expect to see you so soon." She smiles.

"Quinn got called into work unexpectedly so I offered to bring Cal to dance." I explain.

"Oh ok." Emma nods, just as Callie's class is called.

Has it really been fifteen minutes already?

"Bye Sanny," Callie says while reaching her arms upwards, a silent signal for me to lift her. "I love you." She adds sweetly, and I swear my heart melts every time.

"I love you more, munchkin." I playfully poke her nose, before setting her back down. "Remember what I told you?"

"Don't let anyone get to me and knock 'em dead!" Callie exclaims happily, and I laugh and nod.

"You got it, little one." I wink while smoothing her hair back. "I'm gonna record you being a little ballerina for your mommy, so dance like she's here watching, ok?"

"Ok." Callie nods.

"Good luck getting that camera past Mrs. Vincent." Emma states with a smirk. "One thing she hates more than sickled feet is video cameras."

"She's mean." Callie chimes in.

Emma nods in agreement. "Yeah, she took one woman's camera and threw it against the wall."

"I wish that bitch would." I mumble under my breath, before sighing. "Well Quinn will kill me if I don't get this on video, so I think I'd rather deal with this dance teacher's wrath than Q's."

"Understandable." Emma nods. "Just make sure you keep a look out, she could pop up at any moment." She warns.

"Will do." I chuckle.

"Emma, Callie, let's go ladies. Class started two minutes ago." Ms. Pinson states while poking her head out the door of studio 6.

"Sorry Ms. P, we're coming." Emma calls back while grabbing Callie's hand. "Oh Santana, my mom should be here in a few minutes. You should go see her." She states while pulling Callie towards their studio.

I smile at the thought of spending more time with Brittany and nod. "I will." I promise.

...

"One, two, three." I count to myself and run through the beginning of the dance again, before losing my balance on the pirouette and fall, again. "Shit!" I sigh and slam my fist against the smooth floor in frustration.

"I thought I heard you in here."

I jump in surprise, not expecting anyone else to be around at this time. I feel a small sense of happiness mixed with uneasiness when I realize who it is.

"Santana." I smile while attempting to catch my breath, and pull myself off of the floor. "What are you doing here?"

Santana returns the smile and closes the door behind her, before walking further into the studio. "I had to bring Quinn's daughter to her dance class, she signed her up last week." She explains.

"Quinn has a daughter?" I ask, but not in a surprised way. "With who? Puck?"

"Nope, Sam." Santana shakes her head and shrugs. "Who knew Barbie and Ken would have their happy ever after?"

"I did always have my money on Puck." I muse while tapping my chin. "Where is Puck, anyways?"

Santana leans back against the ballet bar and drags her nails along the surface. "I'm pretty sure he's living in California with his twenty-two year old girlfriend."

I nod, because that does sound like Puck.

"What were you doing? You know, before I came in." Santana questions as her eyes meet mine. "Were you dancing?"

"Not really." I brush off while averting my gaze to the floor.

Santana frowns. "You sure about that?" She regains her balance and takes a few steps towards me. "Because it looked like it."

"If you know, then why are you asking?" I snap, instantly regretting it when a small sense of hurt flashes across Santana's face. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Do you come here often?" Santana asks, deciding to change the subject.

I shrug. "Sometimes when I have free time. I'm friends with the owner, so he let's me use one of the empty studios." I tell her.

Santana closes the large gap of space between the two of us and silently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "That choreography looked awfully familiar." She states, and I feel myself blush.

"How much did you see, exactly?" I mumble, and she laughs.

"Enough to recognize it." Santana smiles, more with her eyes than her mouth. "Sectionals, Junior year. My very first solo-"

"Valerie." We finish at the same time, the both of us smiling like idiots.

"It was my favorite routine." I admit.

"It was mine too." She nods while resting her hand on my elbow, and gently massages the exposed skin there. "I remember you helped me rehearse all week for it."

"You were so nervous," I smile in remembrance. "You threw up right before we went on stage. Luckily I was there to hold your hair back; I don't think the judges would've appreciated the chunks of the sandwiches we ate earlier being visible for their eyes."

Santana laughs, and my insides warm as I watch her nose crinkle. "I was so close to just giving the solo to Berry, who was still throwing a hissy fit over not having one."

"You deserved it more than she did." I tell her honestly. "I always knew you had what it took to be a star, so when you finally got your chance to shine I had to make sure no one took it away from you."

"And I loved you for it." Santana states, before her eyes widen in horror. I'm assuming she hadn't wanted to say that aloud. "Uh-I mean-"

"I loved you too." I whisper and without thinking, take her hand in my own and intertwine our fingers.

Santana sighs as her eyes flutter shut, and she rests her forehead against mine. "What do you say we reminisce the past?" She suggests while briefly opening her eyes, which immediately connect with mine.

"Like what?" I question with a small smile and watch Santana carefully as she pulls away, but keeps our hands tangled together.

Santana clears her throat and winks, before singing the first line that makes my knees weaken, even after all these years.

_Well sometimes I go out by myself, and I look across the water_

_And I think of all things, what you're doing, and in my head I paint a picture._

I laugh as she twirls me.

'_Cause since I've come on home, well my body's been a mess_

_And I miss your ginger hair, and the way you like to dress_

_Won't you come on over_

_Stop making a fool out of me,_

_Why don't you come on over Valerie?_

It amazes me how we go through the old routine with such ease and reassurance, that for the first time in so long, I truly feel happy.

Santana's smile, Santana's laugh, Santana's everything; it makes me feel like I'm _home_.

...

**6:30pm**

James and I enter the large glass building hand-in-hand, a small sense of panic rising in my chest. It's very clear how this meeting will go; James will claim that he's doing everything he can to fix our relationship while I sit there quietly, not speaking unless spoken to.

And if I am questioned by the counselor, then I have to choose what I say very very carefully.

_Lie, lie, lie._

As we approach the main desk, my breathing becomes a little more shallow and James's grip on my hand tightens. I stay silent as he gets the information from the woman, and we head towards the elevator, tapping the button for the seventh floor. I impatiently watch the numbers on the elevator change as we move from floor to floor, and I can't help but hope that the elevator get's stuck on the sixth, or our appointment somehow gets canceled.

The elevator dings and we step out, walking down the long, brightly lit hallway. I allow James to lead the way, because he seems to have a sense as to where we're going unlike myself, so I don't question anything when we stop I front of room 52.

"The woman at the desk said to just go ahead and go inside. I'm guessing our counselor will meet us in there." James informs me while pushing open the door, allowing me to walk in first. It's a large office, mostly white, but very elegant. There's a large window behind the desk, which has such an extraordinary view of Miami that I'm almost awe-stricken.

We take a seat on the suede couch near the back, James leaving a respectable amount of space between both of us. My eyes continue to scan around the office well after we're seated, attempting to get some insight as to who the counselor might be.

I relax more once I'm about ninety-nine percent sure it's a woman, it puts my mind at ease.

I let out a deep exhale and glance to the right wall, where I notice the multiple degrees hanging up side by side.

I'm impressed to say the least, and I'm in the middle of reading over the fine print when the name on the large black line, written in cursive catches my attention. And then the small sense of panic I had felt earlier grew almost twice it's size, and I have to close my eyes, because the dizziness was beginning to become unbearable.

Because that one name, which is marked on every award, plaque, and degree flashes around in my head like one of those neon open signs that sit in gas station windows.

"Sorry I'm late, my last meeting ran longer than I had intended it to."

I reluctantly open my eyes and watch as James shakes hands with the woman I recognize all to well, and her own smile seems to falter when her eyes connect with mine.

"Brittany." Quinn states, her eyes flickering between James and myself. "It's been awhile."


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: enjoy. :)**

**...**

_"I'm just speaking from experience. Nothing can compare to your first true love, so I hope this will remind you. When it's for real, it's forever; so don't forget about us." Mariah Carey, Don't Forget About Us_

...

_No._

I continue to stare at Quinn with wide eyes, the small _hi_ coming out of my mouth barely audible for anyone to hear.

And the way Quinn's looking back at me; it makes me feel uncomfortable. She has this strange glint in her eyes, as if she knows something that I'm not aware of.

"Well, shall we begin?" James questions while glancing at the Rolex watch on his wrist. "We have reservations tonight, and it is important for us to be punctual."

"Right, of course," Quinn smiles and takes a seat on the large, plush white chair sitting in front of us. "Why don't we begin with discussing the root of what the problem seems to be?" She suggests, crossing on leg over the other. "Brittany, why don't you begin?"

I freeze. Quinn was always a master at deciphering a truth from a lie; it's how she figured out what was going on between Santana and I in high school, even before Santana did.

I avert my eyes to a random object in the room, being a framed picture on one the white walls; it was when Glee club own Nationals senior year, and Santana, Quinn, and myself were all smiles while holding each others' hands. I have a clear remembrance of that day, and a dull ache returns to my chest.

"_Brittany!_"

I snap my attention back to the two and look to James, who is now staring at me with slight confusion, but mostly anger. "Brittany, she's been speaking to you for almost five minutes. Where is your head?"

_Good question._

"Sorry, I get distracted easily." I quickly apologize, and James grunts quietly in agreement.

Quinn quirks a brow. "Ok...well why don't we get back to the question, Brittany." She glanced between myself and my husband, watching us carefully.

_Right._ "I- I don't know." I manage to stutter out. "I mean, I don't have a problem with our marriage?" I'm very much aware of how I said this; almost as a question despite a statement.

"You seem to be deflecting." Quinn states, her green eyes watching me carefully. "Honesty is key to a successful marriage. Being honest with yourself is even more important, and I can see that it might be something you're struggling with."

I can feel James's eyes burning into the side of my head during Quinn's observation; and I have nothing I'm able to respond with. As always, Quinn is completely right.

But I refuse to admit it aloud.

"James," Quinn then turns her attention to my husband, who tears his gaze away from me and focuses on her. "What are your honest thoughts on your marriage?"

"I feel that our communication is lacking," James states. "Possibly if we spent more time together, it would improve. But I am a very busy man and just received a large case to work on, I don't have much time."

Quinn nods, almost as if agreeing. "I would suggest for the two of you to spend more alone time together. Whether it being a date night out in the city, or a quiet evening at home. Making time for each other is one of the most important things you have to do in a marriage in order for it to stay healthy and fresh." She explains while looking between us. "Unfortunately we're almost out of time; but attempt to put my suggestion into action over these next few days. I can almost promise you that it will make a positive impact."

"Will do," James nods and pushes himself off of the couch, offering his hand to me, which I easily take. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. ?"

"Evans." Quinn smiles as she shakes my husband's hand for the second time that evening. "And it was my pleasure. I'm scheduling you both for another session on the 23rd, but I think it may be best to speak with the two of you separately." She informs him while leading us towards the door.

"Ok." James nods, and I can tell from his body language that he isn't pleased with the idea, but he would find it rude to decline. "I'm looking forward to it." He then says, plastering his charming smile on his face as we step out of the office.

"As am I." Quinn agrees, and she looks to me. "Bye, Brittany. It was nice to see you again."

James raises a brow, and I internally groan at the discussion this may lead to later.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Evans." I respond chorally, offering Quinn a small nod.

"Right." Quinn nods, "Have a nice day." She adds, before closing the office's door.

James and I then leave in silence.

...

"_SANTANA_!"

I jump, causing my grip to falter on the plate and my hands, which leads to me dropping the fresh turkey on wheat Val had only made seconds ago. I scowl and look towards the entrance of the kitchen, where Quinn is rushing into.

"This better be pretty damn important Q, and you owe me a damn sandwich." I snap.

"Remember the new clients I had told you about at lunch yesterday?" Quinn asks, completely disregarding my previous statement, and I notice for the first time that her eyes are slightly larger than usual and a few strands of her usually perfected hair are sticking out.

"Um, kind of?" I tell her honestly, considering our little lunch date involved alcohol.

"It's Brittany." She blurts.

I blink a few times, before gazing at Quinn from my place at the island. "Brittany Pierce?" Dumb question; but I want clarification before this conversation continues.

"No, Britney Spears." Quinn replies sarcastically, before pausing. "And I meant the singer, not Brittany's strange comparison with the whole Brittany S. Pierce thing."

"Yeah, I got it." I roll my eyes, cutting her rant short. "Why is Brittany one of your clients? Don't you specialize in failing marriages or some shit?"

"Marriages experiencing a rough patch." Quinn corrects. "Apparently her marriage hasn't been as perfect as you had thought."

Of course Brittany being married to someone else isn't something I'm optimistic about, but I also know that she deserves the best; so hearing about this saddens me. "Well, I mean, it's fixable right? You've saved hundreds of marriages, I'm sure you'll be able to save Britt's." I shrug.

Quinn stares at the bottle of water I had handed her a few minutes ago while shaking her head slowly. "I don't know Santana, I feel like there's something more."

"What do you mean?" I raise a brow and run my fingers through my hair. "You think Brittany's hiding something?"

"Yes." Quinn states confidently, and I'm surprised to say the least. "I know she is, I could see it written all over her face." She notes, mindlessly twirling the bottle in her hands. "The questions is, what is she hiding?"

"That would be your job to find out." I remind her while tapping my nails against the surface of the island, taking a moment to glance at my watch. "Q, as much as I would love to continue this conversation, and i really would; I have a lunch date with Taylor."

Quinn stifles an eye roll, but nods. "Fine, I'll just go home and vent to my husband." She states while tossing her cream-colored Saint Laurent bag over her shoulder. "What else are they good for, am I right?"

"Mhmm, you do that." I mumble, barely paying any attention to her as I stare down at my phone.

"Bye, Santana. And make sure you cut your nails before you have sex, they're getting pretty long and I would hate for Taylor having to go to the doctor for something like that." Quinn calls from the living room, as she walks into the foyer.

I laugh and shake my head. "Screw you, Fabray!" I yell back. I then glance down at my black-painted manicured nails and hum; because they are getting pretty long.

"Oh, well." I shrug, and head upstairs to my bedroom for a last-minute wardrobe change before meeting Taylor.

...

**The next day- 4:21pm**

"Hey Britt, glad you could make it."

"Well I wasn't doing anything else," I smile while taking a seat at the secluded table in front of Santana. "Besides, I agreed to work on our friendship too remember?"

"Yeah, I know. I just seems unreal, you know?" Santana stares at me with her warm, dark eyes and I melt. "I haven't seen you in so long, and I- I've really missed you, Brittany." She admits as a soft blush appears on her cheeks.

I smile and stretch my hand across our table, resting it on top of Santana's. "I've missed you too, San."

Santana smiles widely, I'm assuming at the nickname that I haven't used in what felt like ages, and I bask in the feeling of the skin on skin contact. "You're still my best friend, you know that right?" She tells me seriously. "You always have, and always will be."

I nod, because I feel the same. "I think no matter what, we'll always have our friendship."

"I'm glad." Santana whispers, just as our waiter re-approaches our table.

Santana removes her hand from underneath mine and glances up at him with a small frown.

"Are you ladies ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" He asks politely while holding out his notepad and ballpoint pen.

Santana looks to me, and I nod, before turning back to him. "I think we're ready." She states. "I'll have the Mediterranean Caesar salad, but I want to replace the Caesar dressing with low-fat ranch." She tells him.

"Got it," He nods, and turns towards me. "And for you ma'am?"

"I'll have what she's having." I tell him with a shrug, handing over mine and Santana's menus.

The man nod and tucks our menus under his arm while dropping his notepad back into the pocket of his apron. "Great, I'll have those salads out here to you soon."

"Thank you." I nod, and watch as he leaves.

"So," Santana drawls out, mindlessly stirring her iced tea with the plastic black straw, "I spoke with Quinn yesterday."

I pause, and hope my facade is believable enough for Santana to remain oblivious to the way I'm currently feeling on the inside. "Did you?" I respond calmly, avoiding her eyes as I focus on the small dessert menu in my hands.

"Brittany, look at me please." Santana stated softly, and reluctantly tear my gaze away from the menu to meet Santana's eyes. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

_Of course I do._ "I know." I nod.

"Ok." She also nods, and I'm praying that she won't elaborate and leave it at that. "I know that this is none of my business, and I understand that it's not my place to say anything; but is everything ok with you and James?"

"I would rather not discuss it." I tell her, and slightly wince at how harsh it had come out.

Santana blinks, watching me carefully, almost exactly how Quinn was at our session yesterday. I recognize that look all too well; as if they're realizing that something is off. It terrifies me.

"Ok." Santana finally responds, before turning her attention the large window we're sitting beside, which has an amazing view of the ocean. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She asks with a smile, and I sigh with relief.

Lunch continues with discussions varying from politics, to some of the people at Santana's firm that she _apparently_ can't stand. Santana stole some of the grilled chicken from my plate, claiming that they gave me more because the waiter had a crush on me, which then led on to her threatening the poor boy to _show_ _him how it's done in Lima Heights_; and I don't think I've ever laughed as hard as I did in that moment, within the previous ten years of my marriage.

As we're leaving, an older woman abruptly stops me at the door and gently grabs my forearm. I look down at her with a small frown, and she smiles.

"I don't mean to sound creepy, but I couldn't help but notice you and the lovely lady sitting across the restaurant," She informs me with a warm smile. "I just wanted you to know that I think you two make a beautiful couple."

"Oh no-" I quickly shake my head, but she stops me.

"I can tell that the two of you are very much in love, and I'm glad that our youth is becoming more open-minded." She tells me, before releasing her hold on my arm and stepping away. "Have a nice day, miss."

I watch silently as she walks away, too many conflicting thoughts swimming around my mind to deal with right now. I sigh; briefly closing my eyes to clear my head, before clearing my throat and following Santana out of the restaurant, who luckily had been in a conversation with another women and hadn't overhead anything.

"You okay?" Santana asks with a small frown as we approach our cars. "You've been quiet ever since we left."

"I'm fine," I reassure her, nodding slowly. "I should get going, I need to get home to Emma."

"I don't see your car." Santana frowns, looking up and down the street. "Didn't you drive?"

I shake my head no. "I called a car service."

"What? Why?" She questions, and I can't help but grin at the sense of concern in her tone.

"James has the car," I explain. "He needed to run by his office for a few hours to file some documents, or at least I think that's what he said."

"You only have one car?" Santana asks, and I nod. "But, why?"

I shrug instead of verbally responding, because I don't have a reasonable answer for her.

"Britt, you could've called me. I would've given you a ride." Santana states, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"It's fine." I shake my head, but she continues to frown.

"At least let me take you home," Santana offers while unlocking her car.

"No, that's ok." I quickly decline; knowing that James would be home right now, and wouldn't be happy with the knowledge that I've been spending time with Santana. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Brittany, you're not an imposition." Santana stares at me with pleading eyes. "Please let me take you home."

"I don't-"

"Brittany."

It's clear that Santana's stubbornness hasn't changed.

I sigh, but slowly nod. "Fine."

"Awesome." Santana smiles and opens the passenger side door for me. I thank her, before reluctantly climbing inside the leather material of the car.

As we drive down the sunny streets of Miami, I'm working on a logical excuse in my mind as to what I would explain to James if he happened to see myself with Santana. Of course there's always that small sense of hope that he wouldn't find out, and there wouldn't have to be an explanation, but I must think realistically in this type of situation.

I've learned from ten years of marriage with James; that somehow, someway, he will always discover what I've been doing.

And when he does; ninety-nine percent of the time it doesn't conclude well.


	11. Chapter 11

"What are you doing with Santana?" James demands around nine o'clock that night, and I knew it was too good to be true when James hadn't been home earlier when Santana had dropped me off.

"What do you mean?" I decide to play dumb- and since James has already informed me that I am several times- it's clear he wasn't surprised by that answer.

"You've been spending time with her," He states lowly, "You've had lunch, you've been around town together, you've been to her home." His voice lowers a few octaves and his eyes narrow. "What the fuck has been going on between the two of you?"

"Nothing." I lie.

_Wrong answer._

I stumble a few feet backwards when the back of James's hand meets my left cheek, and just barely catch my footing before I fall onto the dresser in the bedroom.

"Are you sabotaging my case?" He growls, and I quickly shake my head no. "Is this an attempt to get back at me? Is that what you're doing?"

"I would never-"

"Shut up!" James slams his fist against the surface of the dresser and releases a long exhale. "Do not speak until I am finished, ok?" He tells me in a softer tone, and I nod.

"Every news media has already been all over my ass for this case with Mrs. Remes and her husband; and it is causing myself an unnecessary amount of stress." James fiddles with his wedding ring and combs his fingers through his neatly trimmed hair. "I apologize for losing my temper with you- but you understand that I do not tolerate lying in this household."

I wait a few moments before speaking, for clarification that he is completely finished. "Santana was a friend of mine, from high school." I say, half-honestly. "We spent a lot of time together back then, and we've been catching up. I'm sorry for not telling you when we first met at the dinner- but I truly didn't think of it as a big deal." I explain.

James nods. "I understand. But I would prefer for you to not keep things from me. That Fabray woman- she advised us on being completely honest with each other to benefit our marriage."

"I know," I agree, and gently rub my temples with my index and middle fingers because I can feel a headache coming. "We're trying, and that's all that matters."

James watches me carefully for a few moments, his eyes scanning over my face. "Have you been feeling ok, Britt?" He asks, and sounds as if he's genuinely worried. "I heard you throwing up this morning before I left."

"It was probably something I ate," I state quickly.

"Ok..." James raises a brow and slowly nods. "I need to get going because I have a meeting with Mrs. Remes, but we can continue this conversation later." He says while heading towards the bedroom door, as I take a seat on the edge of our bed.

"Ok." I tell him with a forced smile; the comes out as more of a grimace.

"Feel better," James grabs his phone from the dresser and slips it into his back pocket. "And make sure you ice your face so that it doesn't bruise." He adds, before throwing on his cardigan and leaving the room.

...

"Kurt, what the hell is that?"

Kurt glances down at his caramel sweater with a large golden thing near the collar, and raises a brow. "What, this?" He points to the broach, and I nod. "It's a rhino, and I know it's insanely stylish but no- you can't borrow it." He says quickly.

"I don't want that shit." I laugh while shaking my head.

"Rude," Kurt frowns with a non- subtle eye roll. "I bought this at one of this antique shops downtown; you know that one beside Barney's?"

"Oh, yeah totally." I nod, recognizing the place. "By the way, you could've informed me on the sale at Saks yesterday- I didn't find out until last night on Facebook."

"Like you care whether something is on sale or not." Kurt laughs, and I shrug in agreement. "And Santana, seriously? Facebook?" He grimaces.

"What's wrong with Facebook?" I ask defensively.

"Nothing's wrong with Facebook..." Kurt says slowly, "But Twitter and Instagram are what's hot now. Keep up, grandma." He teases.

I playfully smack Kurt's shoulder, causing him to yelp; and chuckle. "I have a twitter, I just rarely use it." I admit while grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

"We must fix that," He states seriously. "Your phone's ringing, should I answer?" He then asks while reaching for the device, but I quickly grab it before he can and unlock it- bringing the phone to my ear.

_Hello?_

_**Santana?**_

_Bri- _I pause when I remember Kurt's standing only a few feet away. _Hey, what's up?_

_**I have a big favor to ask.**_

I quirk a brow. _Ok..?_

_**Would you please be able to get Emma from school? The nurse just phoned me and said that she sprained her wrist at recess, and needs to go home**_. Brittany rambles._** I would get her myself but I-**_

_Calm down, of course I'll go get her._ I chuckle.

_**You will? **_I smile at the relief in Brittany's tone. _**Thank you so much, Santana. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.**_

_It's no problem, really._ I subtly glance at Kurt. _I wasn't doing anything important_ _anyways._

_**I'm sorry for asking you to do this, it's just that-**_

_Britt_. I state quietly and shake my head, only to remember that she isn't able to see me. _Don't apologize, I like Em. It's been awhile since we've hung out anyways._

I stay on the phone with Brittany for a few more moments- which is mainly her thanking me and promising to come by and get her as soon as possible; which I tell her not to stress over because Emma's no problem.

Almost ten minutes later we finally say our goodbye's, and I return my phone back to its original place in my bag.

"I have to go." I state while sliding on my sunglasses and smoothing my hair back into a messy bun.

"What, why?" Kurt frowns and follows me to his front door. "I thought we were going shopping?" He pouts, and I shake my head apologetically.

"It's an emergency, sorry Lady Lips." I slip out the front door and skip the few steps that were connected to the house.

"Something at the office?" Kurt calls after me, a skeptical look crossing his face.

My hand freezes on the door handle, and I slowly nod. "Something like that." I state as I open the car door. "I'll call you later, tell Sebastian I said hey." I add, before swiftly climbing into the driver's seat and starting the car.

...

I rush through the double doors of Miami's finest private school- Wynwood Middle- and immediately approach the office window to my right. "I'm Santana Lopez, I'm here for Emma Arrington." I tell the brunette, who is staring at me curiously with an arched brow.

"Oh yes," She nods while glancing at a form in her hands. "Mrs. Arrington informed us that you were coming since she was unable to. Emma's back this way." She pushes herself out of the plush chair and opens the door for me to walk through.

"Thank you," I nod and follow the woman as she leads me to one of the rooms in the back, which I'm assuming is the nurse's office.

Emma is sitting on the examination table with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes, as she protectively cradles her left arm in her hand; which is now wrapped up and placed in a bright blue sling. Her eyes shoot up when the red headed woman, (_the nurse?_) clears her throat, and immediately meet my worried ones.

Her face breaks from it's stoic composure and I spring into action when she whimpers a quiet, barely audible, "Santana."

"Hey," I coo while pulling her into my arms, careful not to hit her injured one. "You're ok, sweetheart." I tell her while running my fingers through her hair.

"It hurts," She sniffles into the crook of my neck- where she's buried her face.

"I know, I know." I whisper and kiss her forehead. "Brittany told me to take you back to my house, and that she'd come by as soon as she could. Is that ok?"

Emma nods and slowly lifts her head to meet my eyes. "Can we watch a movie?" She asks quietly, and I smile while tucking a strand of loose blonde hair behind her ear.

"Of course, and I even bet that Val would make us some ice cream sundaes if we ask nicely." I wiggle my eyebrows, grinning when I receive a successful chuckle out of the young blonde.

"Like, with cherries on top?" Emma questions, mirroring my smile. "'Cause cherries are awesome."

"I totally agree," I nod and help her down from the table. "We can stop by the store and pick up the supplies- it'll be like a mission." I declare.

Emma smirks while taking my hand as we leave the nurse's office, offering both women a small wave on our way out. "You're a dork." She tells me with an amused expression, and I shrug.

"Maybe a little," I agree. "I do like the _Harry Potter_ series. But shhh, don't tell anyone." I press my index finger over my lips and shake my head.

"Does my mom know that?" Emma asks while staring up at me curiously.

"She does," I hum. "I'd always make her watch the movies with me at our Friday night sleepovers back in high school."

Emma smiles. "Cool, what else did you guys do?"

I freeze. _Oh, shit_. "Um- we ate a ton of junk food and... then went to sleep?" I lie, hoping it was believable enough to meet her standards.

Emma's lips twist into a frown and she shrugs. "Lame." She states while climbing into the passenger seat of my car.

"Not quite..." I roll my eyes and stick the key into the ignition. "We had a great time actually, you loser."

"You're the loser." Emma snorts. "Who watches _Harry Potter_ voluntarily?"

"A lot of people, actually!" I defend as I pull out of my parking space and drive onto the main road. "You're just a hater."

"Hater? You're like thirty, don't say that." Emma shakes her head, scrunching up her nose.

"Excuse me, I'm twenty-nine and that is not old!" I grumble while slipping my Ray bans down; so that they're now resting on the slope of my nose.

Emma laughs and playfully nudges me with her good elbow. "Is so. You're not that far away from having a mid-life crisis." She tells me seriously.

"Emma!" I gasp and briefly glance at her. "Why do you even know what that is? You're eleven." I remind her, and Emma shrugs.

"My health teacher always talks about how he's pretty sure his wife is experiencing a mid-life crisis, and she's thirty-four." Emma informs me nonchalantly.

I quirk a brow. "Seriously? What kind of low-quality crazy ass teachers work at your school?"

"My Spanish teacher has an invisible cat." Emma's lips curl into a small smile. "One kid pretended to hit it and he got in school suspension for three days."

"You're joking." I deadpan, and Emma laughs while shaking her head.

"I am one hundred percent serious. It was insane." She does the swirling motion with her finger by her head.

I chuckle and tap my finger against the steering wheel once we come to a halt- because Miami's traffic is a bitch. "Poor kid."

"Not really, he thought it was funny." Emma cocks her head to the side, squinting at the cars ahead of us; before forcefully punching my forearm.

"What the-" I look down at my arm, then look back to the smirking blonde. "Ow? Why did you do that?" I question before punching her back, only softer.

"Punch buggy, no punch backs," Emma says as if it's obvious. "See, I told you that you're old." She mumbles with an eye roll.

I jut my bottom lip out in a playful pout, before exclaiming a slightly annoyed, "I am _not_ old!"

...

**5:45pm**

Emma and I spent most of the afternoon watching _Disney_ movies (her choice) and one _Harry Potter_ movie, which she had surprisingly enjoyed- but I mean, I knew she would.

Like I had said, Val happily made both of us two large ice cream sundaes, and Emma went ham on the cherries; eating almost all of them. She claims they're good for her metabolism- and now she looks like she's wearing bright red lipstick.

Emma fell asleep from a sugar high about an hour ago, and I made sure to prop up her arm with one of my couch pillows to make sure that she didn't irritate it- while covering it with ice. I gave her the pain medication that the nurse had suggested I pick up from the local pharmacy once Emma began to complain about the pain, and had her rest on the couch for a little while, which is what led to her mini-power nap.

I force myself off of my comfortable position on the love seat when the door bell rings, and jog through the living room and foyer to answer it.

"Britt," I smile- which immediately falls when I notice her appearance. She has dark circles under her eyes and looks beyond exhausted; and of course I'm automatically worried.

"Hey, are you ok?" I usher her inside and quietly close the door, before resting the back of my hand against her forehead. "You're a little warm," I mumble.

"I'm fine." Brittany replies weakly. "I think I might have a small stomach virus." She sighs while rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"Have you went to a doctor?" I question with furrowed brows, as I continue to examine her face- a small bruise forming on her left cheek immediately catching my attention. "What happened?" I whisper and ghost my fingers over the purple flesh, causing her to flinch.

"Nothing." She jerks her head away from my touch. "Where's Emma?" She then questions, her eyes scanning around the foyer.

"Asleep in the living room." I state- continuing to watch her carefully. "Are you sure you're ok? You look like you're about faint."

"I just need to get Emma home and rest." Brittany briefly closes her eyes and balances herself against the table.

"Brittany..."

"Santana, I'm _fine_." Brittany snaps; which catches me off guard. "Will you please bring my daughter in here so that we can go home?" She says in a more gentle tone, and I can tell that she's too exhausted to argue; so I decide to let it go and nod.

As I'm walking back to the living room, my mind drifts off to Brittany's behavior over the past few weeks, and I frown at even the smallest things I've happened to noticed.

The bruises, how she's unusually so quiet, the way her eyes don't shine as much- something is wrong.

Something is _very_ wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n: somewhat fluffy chapter. Calm before the storm, right?**

**also, check out my new story _Modern Family_**

...

_"I was born sick, but I love it. Commend me to be well-_

_Amen, amen, amen." Hozier, Take Me To Church_

...

"Mom," Emma whispers and lightly taps my forearm to get my attention. "Mom!" She tries again, but a few octaves higher this time.

I sigh and slowly pull myself out of my slumber, before forcing my eyes open. "What, honey?"

"Are you sick again?" Emma asks worriedly, her eyes focused on mine. "Do I need to get medicine? Or call Santana?"

"No, I'm not sick again." I reassure her while lazily pushing up on my elbows. "Don't put too much pressure on your wrist Em, remember what the doctor said?" I say quickly when I notice her leaning forward on both arms.

"Oops." She shrugs and stands up straight.

"Ladies," James then enters the room with today's newspaper tucked securely under his left arm. "Have you been asleep all afternoon, Britt?" He then asks while pausing.

"I've been tired lately." I tell him quietly, avoiding Emma's curious gaze on me.

"Hm," James nods. "Have you thought about seeing a doctor about this?"

"No!" I say a little too quickly, and James looks at me skeptically. "I mean, I don't think it's anything serious. Probably just a small cold."

"But we're in Miami." Emma chimes in while cocking her head to the side. "You don't get colds in Miami."

_Thank you, sweetheart._

"Technically, you can get a cold anywhere you go, Em. No place is immune." James corrects and sets his newspaper down on the coffee table. "But it is untypical for that type of sickness to occur somewhere as warm as Florida." He counters as his eyes wander to me.

"Maybe it's the brownies I made last night," Emma suggests with a small shrug. "I think I forgot an egg."

"So that's why they tasted like that..." James mumbles, and I chuckle.

"Try to give us a heads up next time you're improvising on the ingredients, honey." I tell her with a smile, and she quickly nods in return.

"Em, keep an eye out on your mother for me." James states as he heads towards the front door. "I should be back later tonight- I'm unfortunately backed up on paperwork."

"Is it related to the case?" I ask, curious to know if he'll be working with Santana today.

But James shakes his head. "Not this time, just office work." He informs me.

"Oh, ok," I nod and resume my position against the couch. "What do you want for dinner tonight?" I question while glancing to Emma- who shrugs.

"I will just pick something up on my way home. Like I said, it's going to be late." James says.

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be a problem-"

"I said _no_, Brittany," James cuts me off- already half way out the front door. "Don't wait up." He adds, before slamming it shut.

...

**3pm**

"We're going out."

Quinn and I appeared at Brittany's front door a little over five minutes ago- and we are on a mission. It's clear that there's something going on with Brittany, and we're choosing to respect her privacy by keeping to ourselves about it, but we are determined to at least help her feel a little better.

Brittany gives us a confused look- quite similar to the one she would use with me when I attempted to explain algebra to her back in high school- and shakes her head. "What are you talking out?"

"Girls day," Quinn chimes in. "The Unholy Trinity, just like old times. But with our kids." She adds and nods her head back towards her black BMW, where Callie had her little head stuck out the window.

"Is that your daughter?" Brittany's face breaks into a small grin as she waves to the younger blonde, and laughs when Callie enthusiastically waves back.

"Mhmm," Quinn nods proudly. "She's six and a half."

"She's adorable," Brittany says while leaning against the doorframe. "So, what is Girls day exactly?" She then questions with a raised brow, and Quinn looks to me.

"Well, um," I shrug. "We can grab some lunch downtown, shop, do whatever."

Quinn rolls her eyes at my answer and takes a step forward. "It's mainly just about the three of us reconciling. I mean, I know you and Santana are, but I'm the one who got the two of you together in the first place." She states cockily.

"Really, Q?" I snort and shake my head. "You didn't have a damn thing to do with Brittany and I getting together, cut the bullshit."

"I so-"

"Mom," It's only a few seconds before another blonde head appears in the doorway. "Who's at the-" Emma pauses when she sees me and a huge grin crosses her face. "Santana!"

"Hey kid," I laugh and fully return the hug she had initiated.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asks happily.

"Well, my friend and I," I motion towards Quinn, "Are trying to convince your mom to come out with us for a girls day."

"Me too?" Emma questions while glancing to Brittany, and I nod.

"Yeah, if Britt is ok with it." I look to Brittany- who playfully rolls her eyes.

"Well now that you've told Emma, she won't let me say no." Brittany states with a small chuckle.

"So is that a yes?" Emma asks. "Please, please, please mom." She brings out the puppy dog eyes and pout- which Brittany must've passed down because they look nearly identical.

Brittany sighs before nodding, and Emma squeals. "But this does not get you out of cleaning your room missy, you will continue once we get back home." She tells her sternly.

"Ok." Emma smiles, "I need to grab my phone before we go. I'll be back." She announces, before disappearing back inside the house.

"Look what you've gotten me into." Brittany mumbled while giving me a light smack on the arm.

"Hey, it was Q's idea." I smile, motioning towards the shorter blonde next to me.

"Mhmm," Brittany raises a brow. "I'm sure this entire thing was Quinn's idea." She smirks.

I gasp as I feign hurt, and place my hand over my chest. "You calling me a liar, Pierce?"

"No," Brittany smiles. "But I ain't callin' you a truther."

"Brittany, no." I snort while shaking my head. "You _so_ got that from_ Drake & Josh._"

"I know," Brittany shrugs, just as Emma reappears with a completely different outfit on- and her iPhone resting in her left hand.

"I'm ready." Emma states happily with a bright smile on her face.

"Why'd you change?" Quinn asks with a small frown, and I jump because I completely forgot that she was even here.

That seems to happen a lot when I'm around Brittany.

Emma glances down at her denim cut off shorts and bright blue top, before shrugging. "I liked this one better." She says simply.

Quinn looks to Brittany- who just laughs and nods her head towards the car. "Go ahead Em, we'll be there in a minute."

"Cool," Emma smiles and jogs off towards Quinn's BMW.

"Well let's go ladies, times a'tickin." Quinn sing-songs while glancing at the watch on her wrist. I roll my eyes and Brittany chuckles, as Quinn leads the way down the cobblestone pathway.

"Ready for the best day of your life?" I smirk with a quirked brow as I open the car door for Brittany.

"Yeah, _totally_," Brittany replies sarcastically while rolling her eyes. "You practically kidnapped me." She laughs.

"Lies!" I wave my finger at her. "You know you enjoy spending time with me, just admit it." I grin.

"Ok," Brittany slips into the backseat next to Emma, and gives me a subtle wink before whispering, "I do."

...

"Hey! You two stay close! Do _not_ make me come after you!" Quinn yells after Emma and Callie, who were seemingly attempting to play tag on the sidewalk of downtown Miami. "And slow down, I don't want to take a trip to the emergency room today." She quickly adds.

"Chill, Q." Santana laughs while shaking her head. "They're just kids."

Quinn scowls and rolls her eyes. "Just kids who are ridiculously accident-prone. Well, I know Callie is. I don't know about Emma though." She shrugs.

"Emma's actually not that bad." I counter while waving to a small child who stumbles past us with his mother.

Quinn hums knowingly. "She must've gotten the grace from you, then."

"It's a possibility." I laugh and watch as my daughter and Quinn's squeal and giggle happily with each other.

"Ooh!" Santana's excitement catches my attention as she gently grabs by forearm and points to something off in the distance, "Come with me, Britt."

"Where?" I frown, having no clue as to what she's referring to.

"There! Don't you see it?" I resist the urge to laugh, because Santana's resembling a small child who notices a toy they want in a toy store. "The churro stand, Britt."

My mouth forms into a small o and I squint my eyes, just barely noticing the pink and white cart placed a few blocks down. "Why do you want a churro, Santana?" I ask- because I never remembered Santana having a love for the baked dessert childhood/ teenage years.

"It's her newest obsession," Quinn informs me while keeping her gaze focused on our children. "Once, she woke me up at 2am and drive her to Taco Bell to get one."

Santana shrugs. "Snixx was hungry."

"Yeah? Well Snixx can kiss my ass if she ever decides to pull a bitch move like that again." Quinn states while resting her hands on her hips.

"Whatever," Santana grumbles, and I smile.

"Santana, I'd love to come get a churro with you, but," I glance to Emma, who is now French braiding her hair as Callie watches in awe. "I can't just leave Emma here."

"Nah, go ahead Britt. It's cool. I'll stay here and watch the little rascals." Quinn smiles while nodding her head towards Callie and Emma.

"Are you-"

"Ok, great. C'mon Britt." Santana's hand wraps around my wrist as she drags me away from Quinn and down the street.

"Santana," I chuckle. "Slow down. I'm about to trip over my own two feet."

"Then pick up the pace, B. I refuse to reach the stand and have them run out of churros. I would have to go _all Lima heights_ on someone." Santana states with a small huff.

I smile at her and shake my head. "I don't think that's-"

"_Ow_!"

I stumble a bit, apparently from myself colliding with another person- who, by the look on their face, wasn't too happy about it.

"You need to watch where you're going." The blonde snaps, and I cower back a bit as Santana balances me by placing her hand on the small of my back.

I'm about to take Santana's hand in my own and continue our path towards the churro stand, when I hear the blonde mumble a confused, "_Santana_?"

"Taylor." Santana smiles awkwardly and I frown at her sudden change in composure.

"Santana," The blonde, who I'm assuming is Taylor, quirks a brow and looks to me. "Who is this?"

"Oh, um," Santana laughs nervously and scratches her arm. "This is my friend, Brittany." She states while motioning towards me.

"Oh." Taylor deadpans, her eyes never leaving mine. "Wait, didn't I meet you at that dinner party a few weeks ago?" She questions as her eyes narrow.

"Um, I think so." I slowly nod, and then the realization that this must be Santana's girlfriend hits me. My heart drops.

"You did," Santana confirms and shifts uncomfortably on her heels. "Brittany was with her husband, James."

"The handsome guy?" Taylor asks, surprised. "How'd you manage to get him?"

"Really, Taylor?" Santana rolls her eyes.

Taylor tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and shrugs. "It was a valid question. And I'm curious," She states. "Since you're married to him- I'm assuming you're straight then?"

"Um, actually-"

"I just want to make sure you aren't whoring around with my girlfriend or anything." Taylor smirks, and Santana's eyes narrow.

"Do _not_ talk to her like that," Santana snaps, and I can see the fire rising in her eyes. "Watch your fucking mouth, Taylor. I will not deal with this jealousy shit from you. Brittany and I are just friends- and we're not out alone, Quinn is with us."

Taylor still looks unconvinced, and rather pissed off. "Where _is_ Quinn, then?"

"Quinn is here." I jump from Quinn's voice only a few feet away- not expecting her to be so close. The last I had seen her was by the ice cream place a few blocks back with Callie and Emma. "What's going on?"

"Quinn," Taylor smiles sweetly. "You look great."

I watch as Quinn forces a smile onto her face and repeats the pleasantries, while Santana continues to fume and I stand a few feet back from it all.

"So," Quinn raises a brow. "My question was never answered."

"Nothing is going on Quinn, stop being so god damn nosey." Santana snaps, before turning on her heels and storming away, taking Callie and Emma with her- leaving the three of us alone.

"Whoa, ok," Quinn frowns and looks to me, but all I can do is shrug because I'm just as clueless as she is. "It was nice seeing you Taylor, but we should probably get going." She says politely while looping her arm through mine.

"I see," Taylor nods and briefly makes eye contact with me. "Have a nice day, Quinn. You too, Bailey."

"It's Brittany." I correct with a soft smile.

Taylor's eyes narrow through her Chanel sunglasses. "I didn't ask." She says harshly, before turning on the heels of her six inch pumps and walking away.

"Don't listen to her, Britt." Quinn tells me while shaking her head. "She's a rude bitch, and hopefully Santana will come to that realization soon." Then she smiles. "Now c'mon, let's go pull some nostalgic tricks on Santana to put her in a better mood; because I refuse to sit through lunch with her bitching the entire time."

Not quite sure what to say, because I'm still slightly taken aback by our most recent encounter- I allow Quinn to tighten her arm around mine as she leads us back to where we had been in the first place.


End file.
